Not Far from the Tree
by Kame-Fey
Summary: Janine Hathaway is 17. She's beautiful, confident, and honestly a little narcissistic. On a snowy day, she meets Ibrahim Mazur, and her life changes from that day on. This is not an action story. It focuses on JaninexAbe romance. Full summ. inside.
1. Janine Hathaway

**[[A/N: I've been thinking about writing an Abe and Janine fanfiction for quite some time now. But I haven't gotten around to it until now. I wrote an outline and everything a couple months ago, but I've been so caught up with school, sports, and my other VA story, I haven't had time to write it down. **

**I don't plan on making this too long. At least not as long as my Spirit Bound story. And it won't be updated as quickly either. But I wanted to get the idea out there before I completely forgot. **

**Full Summary:**

**Janine Hathaway is a 17-year-old teenager whose beauty, strength, and innocent narcissism make her a well-known figure at St. Vladimir's Academy. One day, she meets a young Ibrahim Mazur, who, unlike the guys at the school, does not fall head over heels with googly eyes the minute they meet. Something attracts Janine to his wit, sarcasm, and mysterious nature, but before she can figure him out, a devastating Strigoi attack on the Academy leaves Janine changed for better and for worse. The story follows the months following the school's closure as Janine deals with death and her out of control emotions. P.S. You also get to see Rose's conception, but that's later.**

**I'm going to tell you this now that the story is not meant to be action. It has…one Strigoi fight ****planned****. Mostly, I'm focusing on romance and emotion and angst. Not a whole lot of badass fight scenes. If you want to read about action, go read my story Spirit Bound: Blood Red—yes this is a shameless promotional tidbit.**

**Note that this will take place in modern day. VA hasn't specifically set a time period, so I won't either. But there will be allusions to modern day technology and references. I wasn't born in the 70's so I don't know how to write vintage. So just put all of this as if it was happening today.]]**

**[[2****nd**** A/N: The title comes from the adage "the apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Of course I'm referring to the similarities between Janine, Abe, and Rose.]]**

Not Far from the Tree

_Boring. This is all __boring__._ My thoughts were on everything _but_ the Russian language class. Bring me the person who made learning a European language a St. Vladimir's requirement, and I'd have him speaking out a tube by the time I was done.

Counting, my best guess was that I knew…three words in Russian. And so listening to Guardian Viskov ramble on about the history of Moscow in his ridiculously over-done Russian accent could make anyone snooze. He wasn't even Russian. His family had immigrated to the U.S. five generations ago.

I trudged out of the stuffy classroom, glad to be met with a fresh blast of cold, October wind. St. Vladimir's in the wintertime was beautiful. The snow seemed to drip down in puffy white piles.

"Janine, let's go. It's cold," Marie complained, stamping her booted feet.

"Why did you move to Montana if you hate the cold?" I asked her teasingly.

"Because I visited here in the _summer_," she mumbled, her words hard to distinguish behind her thick, purple muffler. "And it's hot in the summer."

I was about to respond when I heard someone call my name.

"Looking good, Janine," a group of Dhampir guys crowed over by the gurgling fountain. I waved at them, to which they all ooed. I recognized Chandler in the crowd. God, that face looked like it was carved from the same stuff Angels were made from. His blue eyes caught mine. Winking, he waved discreetly. I giggled, tilting my head to the side.

Marie grabbed my hand and pulled me faster down the hall "Should I get a bucket for that drool?"

I chuckled and kept walking. Marie sighed, trailing after me. "You know, you could tone down the sex-that-isn't-actually-sex. It was like you were stripping Chandler down with your eyes."

"I was not," I protested.

Marie nodded, not believing a word I said. "And the sky isn't blue."

"It's grey today," I pointed out.

"You know what I mean."

I wasn't about to agree to her accusation. I understood Marie's jealousy. She was envious of me because she was basically my shadow. No one ever called out to Marie. She was cute, I thought. In fact, she had this certain youthful beauty that I was envious of. But I wasn't complaining. I was sexy, and I knew it. I had the curves that most Moroi would die for and most Dhampir girls were not fortunate enough to have.

We passed by another group of guys, and I could feel their eyes follow me as I passed them. The attention was great. I'm not going to lie. I enjoyed their attention.

We stopped in front of our usual parting point, the library. "You sure you don't want to come in?" Marie asked.

"I'm sure."

Marie clucked her tongue. "Your father isn't going to appreciate it when your report card comes home with all F's. You really should focus more on your studies than guys."

I leaned on one leg. "Yes, Mother."

"I'm serious Janine."

I shrugged because I repeated the same speech over and over to Marie every time she asked me to be more diligent at school. "Dad doesn't care. He's to busy doing his _business_ with all his lady secretaries."

"Your father doesn't do that," Marie chided.

I snorted. "Do you _know_ my father? That bastard doesn't have one faithful bone in his body. The second I was born, he tossed my mom out. And now look where she is. Half-dead in the cuckoo hut."

Marie shushed my quickly. She drew me aside, out of the middle of the hallways. St. Vladimir's had long, windy outdoor hallways. While they provided a good amusing sport of letting yourself "fly" through the halls on stormy days; they also made keeping secrets extremely difficult.

"Don't say that," she scolded me. "You know you should respect your father more. He could be your boss one day."

"Yah right," I said. "He wouldn't have me as his Guardian if I was the last one on Earth." My mood was horrible now. Leave it to Marie to bring me down from Cloud 9. And here I was just enjoying the harmless attention of some of my classmates. I didn't see anything wrong with that.

"You going to the practice fields again?" Marie asked.

"Yup." I said goodbye to my friend and parted from her. If her sanctuary was the library, mine was the wooden bleacher that sat at the far end of the practice field. No one would bother me there. Most of the students hung out in the great hall or their dorms.

I made my way towards the fields, located on the outskirts of the campus. Snow had been shoveled out of the way, making a nice, easy path for me to the practice fields.

The bleachers rose up from the snow banks surrounding the east wall of campus. I breathed deeply, sending a cloud of white mist puffing in front of my face.

I climbed carefully, mindful of the ice that clung to the bleacher steps. The field was also iced over, showering reflected sunlight into my face. Maybe if I was lucky, I could get a nice tan.

To my surprise, there was someone else there. My first thought was that my little hideout had finally been found, but as I approached him, I realized I hadn't seen this guy around before.

His skin was a dark, olive color. What I mean is that he had that deep, richer skin color of people from the Mediterranean and the Middle East. You don't see a lot of these people somewhere like St. Vladimir's.

He looked up, turning towards me. In his hand, there was a packet of papers. I glanced down at them and realized they weren't in English.

"Can I help you?" he asked dryly, folding the papers back into his overcoat. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. My eyes drifted to his neck. A brightly colored scarf popped out against the darkness of his jacket.

I really didn't want to share the bleaches with him. That was not part of my afternoon plan. The guy was handsome, yes. He had that rugged, mysterious appearance that models sold their souls for. But after sharing my "tragic" past with Marie, I didn't really feel like socializing.

"I'm just surprised that someone else is here. That's all," I said defensively.

"Oh. Forgive my intrusion." The words were polite, but the way he said them really pissed me off. I could tell he was being sarcastic. And something else. This Moroi didn't seem at all interested in me. Not to be vain or anything, guy who didn't show interest in me was blind or had already gone out with me. I didn't get it. What made this guy so special?

"What's your name?" I demanded hotly, my pride a little broken.

"Are you cross-examining me, little girl?" I growled angrily. He threw his hands up in the air innocently. "Whoa. I didn't mean to incur the wrath of Janine Hathaway."

I frowned. I didn't remember giving him my name. And I didn't recognize him from school. So how did this bastard get it?

"I know things," he explained, seeing my face. He held out a hand. "Ibrahim Mazur, pleased to meet you."

"Ibrahim? That's Turkish right?"

He gave me a shocked look. He laughed. "That's exactly right."

I shook his hand hesitantly. After getting so angry with him before, I felt like I was shaking hands with the enemy. In retrospect, it was pretty childish, but he had hurt my pride and that was a criminal offense in my book.

Dusting off the snowy bench seat next to him, I sat down. "We can share," I supposed reluctantly.

Ibrahim chuckled. "I'm not sure I can handle that," he teased.

"I just want to be polite. You're a visitor right?" I said quickly. "Don't get any ideas."

"You're very gracious."

"I don't do well with sarcasm, F.Y.I."

"My apologies." His crooked smile gave me the overt impression that he wasn't going to stop. Something inside me started to light. It was a weird sensation. It was like I'd eaten a feather or something. But it was a pleasant feeling.

"So what are you doing here, Ibrahim?"

"I _was_ enjoying the snow and solitude."

"I mean at St. Vladimir's."

Ibrahim shrugged. "Just here for a visit, I guess." He stood up, stretching. I felt disappointed. Something told me it was my fault that he was leaving.

"Ever been to the U.S. before?" I asked stupidly, in a hurry to keep him here.

"Is it that obvious?"

I paused. I'd gotten so used to his sardonic humor that I wasn't sure if he meant his answer or not. Damn, he had screwed with my head. Since when did I start wondering if someone was being sarcastic, moderately sarcastic, and just frank?

"Really?" I asked skeptically. "You're English is perfect."

"It's part of the job description."

"Job?" I repeated.

"I'm nineteen. I'm not a kid anymore," Ibrahim clarified slowly. "I have to have some way to put bread on the table."

It took me a second to realize that he was calling me a kid. "HEY!" I exclaimed indignantly. "I'm only 2 years younger than you."

Ibrahim looked at me carefully. "I had _no_ idea." Why was he being so cynical?

"Can't you answer sans sarcasm for just five minutes?"

"Sure. Watch." He turned away and started stomping down the stairs. He waved so casually, not even looking back at me. My face burned with anger.

"HEY!" I shouted indignantly, leaping up to my feet. "STOP!" Ibrahim turned, his dark face grinning wickedly. He evidently took pleasure of my frustration.

"Yes?"

I bit my lip thoughtfully. "Are you staying at St. Vladimir's for a while?" _Why am I asking a complete stranger this? _The question swirled in my head, but I didn't mind leaving it a mystery. The guy intrigued me, I reasoned. There wasn't anything more to it.

"I'll see you later, Janine." He waved goodbye and headed off in the direction of the east gate of the campus. I watched him leave, until his vibrant scarf was the only thing left that I could see.

Breathing heavily, I sat down on the benches. Glancing back at the Academy, I debated whether I should spill the details about meeting Ibrahim to Marie. It was she who had just minutes ago, told me to stop being so flirtatious with every guy I met. She probably wouldn't even believe me if I told her about a mysterious, dark-skinned stranger who was as enigmatic as he was sarcastic. But she was my best friend, and I felt I owed her that. So, getting up, I left the bleachers. It's ironic that the first time I would step into the library was to tell my best friend another man walked into my life.

**[[A/N: So we're introduced to Abe and Janine. I used his foreign name in this chapter because I remember Janine responding to that name in Blood Promise. But anyway... I hope you enjoyed this chapter. :D Not sure when the next chapter will come out but don't expect it anytime soon.]]**


	2. Protect

**[[A/N: Wow…this is short. :D]]**

--

Marie looked at me strangely. "Ibrahim Mazur? Never heard of him." Someone shushed her from across the room. We quickly apologized in a hushed whisper.

I sighed disappointedly. I'd hoped that somehow Marie's book smarts would give me some well-needed information. But something inside me had already told me before I asked her that Ibrahim wasn't a guy who gave away too much information.

Seeing my crestfallen face, Marie smiled smugly over the large _Advanced Melee Theory_ textbook. "What's so special about this one guy? His hair? His dazzling smile?"

I laughed shortly. "Funny. But he just seems different. Kind of dark and mysterious. Don't blame me for being attracted."

"So he's tall, dark, handsome, _and_ mysterious," Marie mused. She flipped through the book casually.

"Yah…I was hoping that—"

"No need to say anymore, my soul sister," Marie assured me calmly. She closed the book resoundingly. "I'll see what I can find out about him."

I grinned. Taking Marie's hands, I shook them hard like we had both completed a business transaction. "You're the best, Marie. And no need to rush or anything—"

She pushed me away, but her cherubish face was red with pride. Marie was a master at information gathering. If I had guys, she had her intelligence. Being a volunteer in the main office records room didn't hurt either.

The bell in the library began to ring with a soft doorbell chime, marking the end of the period. Unfortunately, Marie and I didn't have the same class period next, depriving me of a much-needed girl-to-girl gossip session in the back of the classroom.

I waved goodbye to Marie and ran off to my Foreign Cultures class, possibly the driest lecture about international politics. As Chandler used to point out to me, the old Moroi who rambled on about "ignorant, domineering" regimes proposed by "political bigots in chicken suits" was more concerned about his afternoon nap than controlling a room of teenagers.

Speaking of my ex-boyfriend…he stood there casually leaning against the snowy hallway ledge. He smiled at me when he saw me approaching, his handsome smile catching the light perfectly. I didn't like-like him. He was a good friend. We flirted in the halls occasionally, but it was all a joke. I hadn't dated him in a year.

"Shouldn't you be in class?" I asked him, not stopping from my brisk pace to class.

Chandler chuckled and followed my pace. He patted me on the shoulder. "In a bad mood, Jay?" he teased, using my nickname. My cheeks burned with embarrassment. He leaned on my shoulder as we walked, letting out along, drawn out sigh. "I just wanted to talk to you."

I giggled. "Well maybe if you stopped talking to me, I'd stop ignoring you."

"Something's wrong with that logic." He smiled gently, ruffling my hair. 

I stuck my tongue out at him, stopping. I jerked my thumb over my shoulder. "This is my stop," I told him with a composed face. I gently pried his hand off my shoulder. "Let's play this game another day, shall we?"

Chandler shrugged. "I'm free." He checked his watch teasingly. "You're late already. So why don't I take another minute of your time and invite you to this party tonight."

"Party?" I repeated skeptically. I paused. "Where there be beer?"

"If you want there to be beer, there will be beer. So…will you come?"

I didn't blink twice. "Of course," I said automatically. I glanced at the door. Now that I knew of this party, the last thing I wanted to do was go fall asleep in class.

"Go," Chandler said kindly. "I'll see you tonight, kay?"

I nodded. "This isn't a date, though."

"No, not a date," Chandler agreed, but his eyes said differently. "See ya' later, Jay."

I muttered goodbye and slipped into the classroom. Everyone looked at me enter, with questioning eyes. Everyone except the professor. Like I said. He was more interested in naptime than his students. I took my seat in the back corner of the room. Luckily, my entrance didn't draw too much unwanted attention. This left me some time to think.

_Janine, you don't like him anymore…although it sure looks like he wanted something more than just a friendly invitation. _

_Why am I so interested in Ibrahim then? He's a Moroi. He's rude. He's not Chandler at least…if he isn't my type, why the hell am I having Marie snooping for information about him? I'm not a crazy stalker chic am I?_

"Thinking hard, Janine?"

I jumped in my seat, looking to my left. Ibrahim sat nonchalantly in his seat, leaning back in the stool. His face was passive, but his voice obviously told me he was amused.

"What are _you_ doing in here?" I hissed quietly.

He shrugged, twirling his pencil around in his fingers. "Can't I shadow this class for the benefit of learning? Professor Mironov is fairly engaging too."

"You're being sarcastic again, aren't you?"

"You know me too well," he conceded.

We sat there in silence. Back in the corner of the room, we both had a clear view of the classroom in front of us. No one was paying attention to the teacher, so they were more involved in their own doodles. This gave Ibrahim and me a private conversation.

"How long are you going to be here?" I asked him again.

"A few weeks, I suppose. I'm not really on a time limit."

"You free tonight?"

Ibrahim gave me a curious look. "Janine, what are you trying to say?"

I fidgeted uneasily. His dark eyes just seemed to pierce right into my chest. "Well," I said slowly, "there's this party tonight. I was wondering if you wanted to go." After I said it, I immediately felt bad and defensive. Chandler was the one who invited me. Did that mean I had the +1 guest privilege?

"A party?" Ibrahim repeated. "You're inviting me to a party?"

"Is that so bad?" I asked darkly.

"I don't know anyone here though."

"You don't need to know people to be beer buddies," I reasoned. "I've known people who were so drunk, they mistook each other for cousins. It was pretty funny actually."

Ibrahim laughed lowly. "True."

"So?" I pressed. "Say yes?"

"Depends on how you answer my next question."

My eyes narrowed. For a guy who had all the answers, I was a bit scared about what he could possibly ask me.

"Do you like that boy Chandler?"

I froze. "How do you know about him?" Ibrahim gave me a look. Of course he knew. This guy didn't seem to miss anything. "Look. This isn't about Chandler. We broke up, in case you didn't get that in your intel."

"Didn't seem like that when you were talking in the halls."

My jaw dropped in surprise. "How—What—No…" I was speechless. Nothing made sense anymore. Ibrahim was frickin' omniscient. And it pissed me off.

"You're a effing stalker," I snapped, pushing my rage into my words. "Don't come to the party then. Because I'm going to be there with Chandler."

"Maybe I won't." Ibrahim pushed his stool back, standing up. "Janine, enjoy the rest of class." The mask of emotionless calm had returned to his face, wiping any sort of amusement or smiles from his lips. I sat there perplexed. It was so hard to read him like that.

I wanted to leap up from my seat and demand he sit back down. Our argument wasn't finished yet. My cheeks fumed with heat and anger. But I found I couldn't open my mouth. I bit my lips, keeping my words inside me. I knew it wouldn't be the last time I saw Ibrahim.

--

The alarm clock on my bedside rang that annoying buzz that picks up the pace if you don't hit it. You know the sound…BEEP. BEEP. BEEP BEEP. BEEP BEEP. BEEPEBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP!

"SHUTTUP!" I snarled, reaching over and hitting the snooze button. The clock hit my fingers, but instead of turning off, the thing fell off the bed stand. And it still kept beeping. "Fine…" I got out of bed drowsily. My foot hit the clock, kicking it into the wall. I heard a resounding crack, and the beeping sort of fluttered and died.

I sighed, rubbing my temples. A glinting flash from the bedstand caught my eye. I thought maybe for a second that a piece of metal from the clock had come off when I hit it.

I reached down and picked up what looked like a bluish glass. Inside were different layers of bluish colored glass, creating a sort of target shape effect. A hole had been poked through and a leather strip of cloth had been threaded through. 

_Knock!_ Marie's familiar light rapping at the door alerted me to her presence. I put the nazar back on the bed stand and ran over to the door to let her in. I didn't get to open the door very much before Marie sort of burst in.

Her innocent face was alive with energy. "Have I got some interesting news for you," she told me excitedly, pushing past me and flopping on my bed.

"Hello to you too," I said sleepily.

"I did some digging on this Ibrahim Mazur figure you told me about," Marie continued, ignoring my just-woke-up temperament. "You sure met an interesting person."

"How so?"

Marie crossed her legs. "Okay, so first of, he goes by Abe here. It's the English version of Ibrahim."

"Abe?" I repeated unsurely. Somehow, this name didn't fit him. He was Ibrahim in my head. Not an Abe.

"Right. Second, he isn't royal, but this guy is rich. Like I mean rich. I looked up his name in the Moroi databases, and he comes from this long line of shipping tycoons."

I tried to imagine Abe being raised by wealthy parents with oil wells shooting up black gold and large cargo ships in the background. It was a comical imagination, but right now, anything was possible concerning Mr. Mazur.

"So what is the heir to a Middle Eastern fortune doing here?" I asked Marie.

She shrugged, tugging at her orange turtleneck. "I tried to get the information out of the office lady, but she wouldn't say anything."

"Then the trail goes cold," I muttered, thinking hard. "Damn."

"But hey, if you got the hots for him, it might be worthwhile getting married to him. He's rich and all." Marie's voice lilted just enough to tell me she was joking. I knew she still didn't approve of Ibrahim. And I didn't even know if I had a crush on him, especially after what happened in class.

Seeing my face, Marie got off the bed and gave me a hug. I looked down at in her arms, surprised at her sudden action. Marie didn't really hug people. She was a teddy bear with thorns, as she liked to call herself. 

"What—"

"You're freaking about something so stupid," she said softly. "Relax, okay? He's a guy. Nothing ever came from worrying about a guy. Especially if it was you."

"I never had to worry about a guy before," I told her.

"I guess." Her eyes suddenly flickered over to the blue glass piece, resting in a coincidental shaft of rare sunlight that burst through the dusky clouds.

"Wow," she exclaimed, reaching over and picking it up. Her fingers rubbed the edges gently. "Where'd you get a nazar?"

"That's what it's called?" I asked dumbly.

Marie gave me a suspicious look. "If you don't start paying attention in class, you're never going to graduate." She placed in my palm gently. "It's an Turkish amulet used to ward against evil." She gasped. "Did Abe give this to you?" 

"NO!" I said quickly. I couldn't say it was a lie, since he really didn't give it to me. But just the fact that it suddenly appeared in a typical Ibrahim-mysterious fashion in my room and was from Turkey was too convincing. "Chandler gave it to me."

"Oh." Marie grinned crookedly. I knew she had an obsession for Chandler. He was temptingly off-limits boy candy with an extra side of forbidden because I had gone out with him.

"I'm not _with_ him anymore," I interrupted her thoughts. 

"Then why'd he give it to you," she pressed.

I felt pressured to give a reasonable answer. But since I'd already told a lie, I couldn't really give a truthful one. "He invited me to a party tonight."

"Ooooh, like as in a date?"

"Just a friendly invitation."

Marie snorted. She tapped the surface of the nazar in my hand purposefully. "This is not just an invitation by friends. This is a get-in-each-other's-pants invitation. Although it's pretty classy for Chandler."

"Shuttup," I muttered, clasping my fingers tightly. I slipped it over my neck and immediately felt a rush of warmth. I frowned. Maybe those Turkish people had something going from them. I did feel pretty safe.

"Well?"

I looked at Marie suspiciously. "Well what?"

"Can I come to the party or not?"

"I don't know if it's my place to invite you."

"Come on, if I'm _your _guest, who is going to argue?"

I laughed, knowing Marie was just boosting my already too large ego. "Kay, fine. Just don't drink. You know what happens when you drink." 

Marie smiled mischievously. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

**[[A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'll be working on this story more than my other VA fanfiction now, but it won't be for long. I don't plan to make this +25 chapters like my last story.]]**

**[[2****nd**** A/N: PLEASE COMMENT!]]**


	3. Nazar

**[[A/N: Sorry I haven't been updating lately. I'd make excuses…but I'm sure you'd like to read the next part more than hear me rant. Anyway, this is going to be a short chapter. Sorry, but I've been struggling on four hours of sleep for the past week (and I'm one of those gotta-have-16-hours-everyday kind of girls)…oh…I just made some excuses. ANYWAY! Read on :D]]**

Even though I had no idea where Ibrahim—I mean Abe (it didn't sound right in my head still)—was, I wandered the halls aimlessly after saying a temporary goodbye to Marie. I wasn't in the mood for talking to my best friend; instead, I had this innate desire to thank Ibrahim for the nazar that felt warm as it bounced off my chest as I walked.

I only had a small amount of time before the party, but for once, looking sexy wasn't on my mind. But what I was thinking about was why the mysterious guy even gave the nazar to me in the first place. He acted like he didn't like me too much. A lot of people didn't like me. Guys I'd broken up with…girls who got dumped because I flirted with their boyfriends…teachers in general. I wanted Ibrahim to like me though. My fingers drifted up to the nazar and rubbed the glassy surface. It wasn't charmed, but the charm made me feel safer.

"Where are you going, Jay?"

I turned around, expecting to see Ibrahim behind me in his usual pop up stalker behavior. But it wasn't. It was Chandler. I put on a smile for him, waving like I usually did with him.

"Just taking a walk," I told him innocently.

Chandler smiled. "Shouldn't you be getting ready for the party?"

"Shouldn't _you_?"

Chandler laughed deeply, his rich voice sweetening the air around me ears. The way he spoke just attracted people to him. It was like he had a natural charisma. From the moment I'd seen him a year ago, I knew that I had to talk to him. But that fuzzy feeling in my chest that I had during our first encounter had long faded.

"You're right," he admitted slowly. "I have to dress to impress someone today." I frowned at his ambiguous message. I wanted to tell myself that he wasn't talking about me, but my narcissism wouldn't let me. I just knew he was trying to get me back.

"It'll take a lot. You'll have to pull out all the stops," I murmured.

Chandler opened his mouth for a witty comeback, but his eyes drifted to my chest. Before I could scold him for objectifying me instead of paying attention to what I was saying, I realized he was looking at my nazar.

"Like what you see?" I teased, feeling a little self-conscious.

"Where'd you get a nazar?" he asked suspiciously.

"It was a gift," I snapped defensively. I clutched it in my hand. "I kind of like it."

"You don't just _get_ nazars as a gift," Chandler said condescendingly. "It's like giving someone a gun, except this is more superstitious."

"Well this came with no strings attached," I muttered. "Besides, what's it to you. What if I like this kind of stuff?"

"Do you?" he pried.

"Well—" I stuttered. "Oh what do you want, Chandler? Did you talk to me just for a chance to cross-ex me?"

Chandler sighed and placed a firm hand on my shoulder. His eyes met mine and deep I saw myself in the glassy mirrors that stared down at me. Chandler saw me differently than I saw myself. I saw a view of affection and desire. "I just…" He sighed. Faster than I could react, Chandler leaned down and kissed me on the cheek. It was quick and sharp and definitely unexpected.

"Chandler!" I touched my cheek gingerly, not believing he had just kissed me.

"Sorry—god, I'm so sorry!" he apologized. His calm demeanor was smashed, replaced by a crazed confusion. "I don't know what got into me."

I could feel the blood rushing to my face in embarrassment. "I get it," I lied curtly. "It was just for closure."

"Right," he agreed quickly. "Of course." He glanced over his shoulder. No one was in the hallway, luckily. If anyone had seen us kiss, then it would've been a disaster. We weren't exactly nobodies at the school.

"Maybe you should leave," I prompted edgily. I felt uneasy in his presence now. It was like being with a person you don't really know nor like but having to talk with them.

"Yah…remember to come to the party, okay?" Chandler's voice softly eased over my ears in a melodic whisper. It was his way of apologizing to me.

"Sure," I said, unwilling to bend to his pleading.

Chandler gave me a thin smile. "Sorry, Jay," he said before spinning around and running off in the opposite direction.

When he had turned the corner out of sight…well I didn't do anything. I just stood there. Stunned. I didn't expect Chandler to kiss me. In fact, I didn't expect him to do anything but tease me. That's what we did. I made it clear to him when we broke up that it was final. Any lingering feelings were to be kept inside until they died out. It would be best for us to move on from each other. Apparently, one of us hadn't kept up with that promise.

"Chandler," I groaned. "What am I going to do with you?" I tilted my head up at the ceiling and exhaled. On my neck, the nazar grew hotter like a pulsing heart. I touched it gently. _Well at least I have this…whatever this is…_, I thought, finally moving back to the room. Marie would be almost done getting ready for the party in her room. But now, I wasn't even sure I wanted to go. I promised, but what did promises measure up to just feeling awkward?

But I decided to go. Just to show Chandler that I could forget about what just happened and so should he. And I wanted to see Ibrahim. I told him not to come, but I had a strong feeling that he would.

**[[A/N: Sorry again that this chapter is so short and angsty. I'm super tired and not in the mood to write. D:]]**


	4. Her Sworn Duty

**[[A/N: Hi peoples! I apologize for not posting a chapter lately. School has been crazy lately as all the teachers cram in stuff for the last month before summer vacation. Subsequently, I've been a hormonal teenager, living off 5 hours of sleep and the comfort of my iPod. I was going to post a short chapter like before but I decided it'd be better to wait and let myself feel better. Quality before quantity right?]]**

**[[2****nd**** A/N: Anyways, please enjoy this chapter. And review, like always.]]**

Marie and I walked to the party, sliding along the shadows of the halls in order to avoid any unwanted attention. The party—to say the least—wasn't exactly school approved.

While Marie seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the sly spy moves we made, slinking behind Guardian posts and into the niches in walls, I was still a little preoccupied with what had happened between Chandler and me just a while before.

But I put on a good face for Marie. She didn't deserve to hear me whine about my self-inflicted drama. "Marie, please tell me you're going to let me borrow that jacket," I gushed.

She smiled thinly at me, clearly seeing my attempt to "fish for comments," as she called it. "If you let me borrow your whole look," she replied happily, knowing how to respond. Marie was my best friend for years; she knew perfectly well how to stroke my ego. I looked down automatically at my skintight, turquoise party dress. I wore some leggings underneath, just to make it a little less formal.

I punched her in the arm before pulling her down a thin hallway that led to the party room. We ran to the door, careful not to make too much noise in our heels.

As we reached the door, I knocked five times; twice fast, three times slow. The door swung open to a cacophony of pounding music, lights, and the distinctive odor of alcohol. It was wonderful, and just what I needed to release this tension that was building up in my shoulders.

Marie squealed and ran into the room. I probably wouldn't see her again until it was time to drag her drunken body back to her room.

I sighed, following her in. The original furniture of the room had been squished into the windows and sides to make room for the beanbags, couches, and center dance floor. Someone had set up strobe lights that flashed across the room. It was large for a dorm room, evidence that it had been made for a Royal or a guest.

A finger tapped me on my shoulder. I turned to my left to find a bottle of beer shoved into my face. "Take it," Chandler said slowly. "As an apology for an early."

I took the bottle carefully, prying it gently out of his fingers. It didn't take a genius to see that he was drunk but desperately trying to hold onto that last sliver of sobriety. I admired his determination. 

"You can be drunk," I told him. "I probably will be too in a second." The euphoric bliss that I knew came with drinking was calling my name.

"But I know you hated it when I got drunk," Chandler whined.

I laughed, seeing Chandler willingly begin to let go and fall into that blind stupor. Now it was my turn. I looked down at the open bottle of beer. I greedily touched the bottle to my lips and sipped.

As soon as the burning alcohol touched my tongue, I knew I wasn't going to be drinking tonight. I stopped, not feeling the usual effects of drinking. I guess I wasn't in the mood for drinking.

"What's wrong?" Chandler asked, swaying.

"Nothing. I'm just not in the mood for beer."

"You want vodka then?"

"No, no alcohol tonight."

Chandler swore. "I knew I should have waited for you."

"What do you mean?" I asked suspiciously.

"You're sober. I'm drunk. Not much of anything to put you with me." His words came out jumbled and slightly incoherent, but I got what he was trying to say. I softened to his kindness, completely forgetting that he still liked me. It reminded me just as how I felt when I first started dating him. Like he was melting me with his sincerity.

But just as I was about to do something I completely stupid (and that I'd regret in the morning), I saw a brightly colored flash in the corner of the room. It didn't match the inorganic hues of the party lights or the sequined shades a person's shirt.

"Why don't you take a rest, Chandler," I said quickly, leading him through the large group of people to the couches. As soon as I got him settled, I ran towards the window. Ibrahim. Of course it was Ibrahim. He was _everywhere. _

I stood there awkwardly, looking at him as he looked at me. Our argument wasn't forgotten. Well I could say it wasn't really an argument. It was my overreaction to his stalkerness, if that qualified for an overreaction.

"I thought I told you not to come," I said. 

"You can't retract a party invite," Ibrahim told me. "It's bad manners."

"Please. You aren't even here for the booze. It's your stalkerness coming out again, Ibrahim." I grinned, feeling the natural ease between us return. The moonlight from the window hit his dark skin, giving it a ghostly pale glow. He looked down at me, at my chest where the nazar hung around my neck.

"Thank you," I said quickly. "I love it. It's a nazar, right?" 

"It is."

I glanced down. "You…"

"Hmmm?"

"You're name is Abe?" The name felt heavy and awkward on my tongue.

Ibrahim gave me a peculiar look. "That would be the American version of my name. It's so people won't botch my real name."

"What about me?" I asked shyly, feeling unusually timid.

"You pronounce my name just fine. You're accent is natural."

"We're trained to blend in," I told him modestly.

"And I'm a fish." Ibrahim said. I guessed it meant he knew I was trying to be humble. It was probably obvious too. Me and modest don't get along. We stood there in silence for a while.

"So why aren't you over there with your drunk boyfriend?" Ibrahim asked suddenly. I could hear two questions implied there.

"I didn't feel like drinking," I said simply. "And he isn't my boyfriend."

"Don't lie."

I raised my hands innocently. "I'm not." I shifted my weight to one hip. "We broke up. It's over." 

"But why do you hang out with him then?" Ibrahim pressed, giving me a sharp stare. It wasn't harsh, but I could feel him peeling away my defenses to get at my answers. "What makes him so special?"

I wasn't exactly sure about this one. I knew _why_ I hung out with Chandler. But I couldn't put it into words. Think about it like trying to define "happiness."

"He's nice to me. And he's a gentleman," I said slowly. Ibrahim waited for me to explain more. He was never satisfied, was he? "I don't know! I guess because he's nice because he _is _nice, ya' know. Not just because I'm beautiful and popular…and well…he knows how to give me attention. I'm high maintenance, you know."

Ibrahim laughed deeply, tossing his head back. "He's a smart guy," he admitted. "But I think he wouldn't be so attracted to you if you were ugly."

I was about to say something witty back, but then I realized. _He just complimented me…in a backwards way. _"Thanks—" I stammered. I avoided looking him in the eyes, instead turning my head to look out the window. 

A flash of shadow streaked across the empty courtyard. Moroi were either in class or in bed. Tonight wasn't exactly the busiest at St. Vladimir's. But the shadow was too fast for a Moroi…and the glint of red eyes was definitely not characteristic of Moroi. In fact, my gut immediately told me what was out there. I just tried to ignore it. But eventually I had to accept the gut-dropping fact.

Strigoi were inside the Academy.

I had about one second to react. Because in fact, the streak…streaks (SHIT! MULTIPLE) were coming closer.

"Janine, what's wrong?"

All of the sudden, the years of training began to churn the cogs in my head. Moroi come first. That was the rule I lived by. My grandma didn't exactly stitch it onto a pillow for me, but I'm pretty sure every single Dhampir Guardian in the Academy went by the same rule. We were _raised_ on it.

I gave Ibrahim a fearful look before pushing him out of the window's view. Shoving him into the crowd of dancing, half-drunk Dhampir, I glanced around for Chandler. Of course, he was still on the couch, looking just as sick as when I had put him there in the first place. "Stay." I said with such force that Ibrahim's reaction told me he would obey.

I ran to Chandler. I felt he was probably my best bet at…surviving. The word echoed in my head. My heart pounded. I'd never been in a life or death situation. I'd never felt this close to death.

"Strigoi are _outside_, Chandler. Real Strigoi! We have to get out of here and warn the others!" I shouted, shaking Chandler's shoulder. His glazed eyes flickered up at me.

"Whatareyoutalkingabout?" Chandler slurred.

"STRIGOI, YOU FREAKING IDIOT!" I shouted. But I realized Chandler was way to drunk to be of any help. My eyes scanned the couches and then the dance floor for _anyone _who might be sober enough to help. Maybe Marie? No…she always drank. It was like loosing a feral cat on a carcass. Intelligent but wild when released.

I had to do everything myself then. I rushed back to Ibrahim and grabbed him by the arm. I tried to pull him towards the door. He was my charge. I needed to protect him.

But the idiot wouldn't budge. "Tell me what's going on, Janine," he said firmly.

I gave him a pained look. Anytime but this, I'd be fine with dealing with his pig-headedness. But not when Strigoi were probably going to kill all of us in the room. "You tell me," I murmured, using all my strength to haul his Turkish ass to the door. "There are Strigoi. Multiple Strigoi."

Ibrahim's face froze in a mask of fear. For half a second, I thought he would laugh it off, but no. He took what I was saying completely seriously.

"You need to get to the closest Guardian post and tell them about the Strigoi," I whispered. I tried to think of the word. We'd just learned it. And using it for anything but the real situation equaled expulsion or worse. But now was the right time. "Tell them buria. It's the warning word."

"Janine," Ibrahim whispered.

"GO!" I shouted, pushing him one last time towards the door. He gave me a steady look, but deep in his dark, watery eyes, I could see a growing fear. And I could see myself reflected in his eyes. I could see my face. I was scared.

There was a sickening crack and screams behind me. Ibrahim glanced over my shoulder. His face paled again, becoming a sickened staunch white. And he ran. For his life.

"Oh God," I whispered. I normally didn't pray to God, but perhaps now was better late than never.

I turned around just in time to see the windows of the room break underneath the onslaught of three hungry Strigoi burst in.

**[[A/N: I'll leave the battle for the next chapter. But this is exciting huh? Janine is in a room of her drunk schoolmates, in a dress, with no stake. We'll see how this plays out. PLEASE REVIEW!]]**


	5. After Death

**[[A/N: Thank you for all the wonderful reviews. They really keep me inspired to write. I'm counting down the days until Spirit Bound actually comes out. I wonder how different it'll be from my old story. I'm thinking that I'm going to continue my Spirit Bound story as the Last Sacrifice fanfiction…I'm thinking though.]]**

**[[2****nd**** A/N: Here is the fight scene that you all have been waiting for. As you guys know, Janine is about to face off against three Strigoi in a room full of drunken students.]]**

**[[3****rd**** A/N: Another note about this chapter is that it is incredibly angsty. Haha, yah. Just a warning.]]**

I didn't think. You don't think in these situations. I knew I was screwed. I had no stake. No one did. I was alone. And my classmates were being killed one by one in their drunken stupor.

I looked for Marie. If I could get her out, then I would. She was my best friend. And I was dead sure that she was drunk. I was right. Across the room, Marie lay slumped over a couch, her face an unnatural shade of pale green.

"Marie," I yelled. "Get up!" She didn't move. I wanted to run over to her and shake her, but there was no time. I just had to pray to God that she would stay safe.

I grabbed a chair by the table I was standing near and kicked off the breakable chair leg. It snapped off. The end wasn't too sharp, but the splintering tip would work as a weapon for now.

The Strigoi kept rampaging through the room, biting everyone. No one was spared. It was a massacre. Where was Chandler? No, there was no time to find him either. Everyone was dying. In my heart, I knew Chandler was already dead. I shook away the feeling. Nonsense. He could handle himself. In fact, he'd beaten me before many times in the practice courts…but this wasn't practice. This was real. A bloody massacre. By now, some people had tried to fight back. But they were too slow. Their reflexes were dulled by alcohol. And it was useless.

I charged forward towards one Strigoi. His tall, lean frame told me that he had been a Moroi before turning. I growled. Of all types of Strigoi, the old Moroi ones frustrated me the most. Of course, he heard me coming.

"Nice try, little girl," he hissed, grabbing my wrist. He squeezed tightly until I heard a sickening crack. I gasped as pain shot up my arm. It was horrible. My vision suddenly became speckled with dots. The chair leg fell out of my limp hand, clattering to the ground.

I gritted my teeth to keep myself from screaming. I kicked my foot up, hitting his arm right in his elbow. It wouldn't hurt too much, but he did let go. I bent down and grabbed the stake.

Before this, I didn't know how fast a Strigoi could move. I didn't even get to stand up before the Strigoi had grabbed my shoulder and yanked me to my feet. His red eyes glinted with an animalistic hunger He opened his mouth, revealing a shiny pair of white fangs.

My life didn't flash before my eyes, because that would've been a blessing. I had to watch helplessly with no control of my body. I was frozen in fear, seeing death come closer and closer. I wouldn't be turned, I knew. One bite and it was over.

"AHHHHH!" I heard a high-pitched, familiar scream. It wasn't of terror but determination.

Marie rammed into the Strigoi from behind. She must have had some speed because the Strigoi stumbled. I took this chance to skitter backwards, clutching my broken wrist gently. I could see Marie was off balance. She swayed as she stood.

"Strigoi…" Marie growled. "Bastard demon." She blinked several times like her vision wasn't focusing.

The Strigoi laughed darkly. "Is everyone here drunk?" He didn't pause. His hand struck out, hitting Marie squarely in the throat. Marie tried to dodge, but her legs wouldn't move. She flew backwards, hitting the wall. Her eyes met mine for one last second. Her lips twitched as she tried to open her mouth.

_Say something_, I urged. _Keep talking. Say something, Marie. Please._ I ran forward. The Strigoi smirked, turning away to kill the remaining people left in the room. The atmosphere was heavy and had the overwhelming stench of carnage.

Marie was already dead when I got to her. She wasn't Marie anymore. She was just another body. My body reacted strangely after that. It was a blur. Everything was had a crimson color to it. Everything was horrible.

Something sharp pierced into my palm. I didn't feel the pain. My wrist had even stopped hurting. I could feel my body moving, but I didn't know what was going on. All of it was surreal. I was numb inside, but something was moving my body on its own. There were muffled growls. I wondered if someone had stuffed cotton in my ears. Everything was dull.

"Watch her!"

"She killed Ivan!"

"I'll kill that bitch!"

Then everything was silent. It was quiet. All quiet. I hoped I died. I knew Marie had died. Why did she leave me? I thought about this until I was too tired to think anymore.

I floated in an abyss of darkness. I laughed to myself. Now that I was dead, the memories of my life came. Okay, screw anyone who said the lifetime reel came _before _dying.

"_Hi, what's your name?" a girl with a cherubic, almost too-young face asked me. _

_I gave her a look of annoyance. "I think that's what the name stickers are for," I said curtly, gesturing to the Hello My Name Is name card on my chest.  
_

"_Janine Hathaway," she read slowly. "Hm. I was expecting Anastasia or Charlienne or something. You look exotic."_

"_No. Just Janine."_

"_My name is Marie," the girl said, holding out hand to shake. I ignored it, turning away from the cheery girl. She was disturbingly blithe. But instead of turning her off, she kept up behind me. She titled her head to one side. "You're kind of pretty, ya' know."_

_I blinked down at her. She was kind of short, only coming up to my neck. "Thanks," I said tentatively. "You're…kind of happy."_

"_I get that a lot," Marie replied with a smile. "But I'm smart. And that's what counts."_

"_Does it now?" I drawled, itching to go join the group of hot guys I spotted over by the Welcome Freshman! sign. They were all gorgeous. And better yet, they were all Dhampir. That meant they would be in my class. I had four years to spend getting to know each and every one of them. _

"_So you're that kind of girl," Marie observed, following my gaze. _

_My cheeks flushed. "So? What's it to you?" I demanded hotly. What did this little peewee get away with saying that? I wished desperately that she would go bother someone else. _

"_Nothing," Marie said quickly, giving me a sly, sideways glance. "You're really pretty, Janine. I don't think you'll have trouble landing guys here."_

_I recognized the sincerity behind her words and unwittingly felt myself smile. "Haha, thanks," I said brightly. I gave her namecard a look again. Maybe she wasn't so bad after all. "So your name is Marie? Is that French?"_

_She shook her head. "Kind of. I'm emancipated so I decided to give myself a new name a couple years ago. I named myself after Marie Antoinette. You know…the French Queen who was beheaded."_

_I shook my head. The name didn't ring any bells. I wondered if it should. I wasn't exactly the brightest fruit in the basket. _

_Marie laughed aloud, her voice ringing shrilly in the loud gymnasium. No one really noticed over the overall buzz of the classroom though. "You don't read much do you."_

"_No…I'm guessing you do?"_

_"Like I said. I'm smart."_

That was the first day I met Marie. That's ironic. Named after an executed French queen. I remember thinking she was such an odd girl. Who named themselves after someone who died?

Sensations started trickling back oh-so-slowly. I wondered if this was usual of a dead person. Once I felt the feeling of touch itch into my skin, I realized that something was pressing hard on my hip.

I shifted, trying to get it off. It hurt. But it wouldn't budge. I shifted more, but my limbs were heavy and hard. I hadn't completely come back yet.

"Janine? Janine!" A pause. "Nurse! Nurse, come here!" Another longer pause. I couldn't recognize the voice or parse what he or she was saying. Why was the nurse coming? What did a nurse have to do with a dead person?

"Janine, can you open your eyes?" the voice asked tightly.

"Please be quiet. I shouldn't have even let you stay here."

"But I felt her move. Her leg moved."

"Yes, well sometimes the body gives off spasms. It's natural. Now please move away. I need to see her monitors."

I heard some shuffling. My muscles ached even more. I had pushed myself too far maybe.

"You're right…her brain activity has increased."

"Is she waking up?"

"I can't guarantee anything."

"It's been a week. Will she be okay?"

"A little hungry, maybe. But fine, yes. And for the last time, Mr. Mazur, please _move_!"

Ibrahim? Why was Ibrahim here…wherever here was. Did that idiot go and get himself killed. Dear God, I was going to beat his soul to Hell as soon as I could move my arm.

"The lines spiked…what does that mean?"

"She's thinking." I heard a tinge of exasperation. "It seems she likes hearing you talk, Mr. Mazur."

There was a large exhale. I didn't know why Abe was sighing. But I could feel the edges of exhaustion begin to tug me back down into the shadows of my mind. I didn't want to go back. I didn't want to see my life story. I wasn't exactly a role model. But in the end, I couldn't resist. I felt myself bit by bit slipping back.

"_Why don't you pay attention more in class?" Chandler asked me teasingly. _

_I sighed, jabbing the dulled end of my pencil into his shoulder. He yelped. The librarian hissed at us to be quiet. I giggled quietly, trying to focus more on my Pre-Calc homework. _

"_That hurt," Chandler complained. _

"_Be a man. Or better yet, don't be Marie. I get enough of her nagging as it is," I retorted into his ear. Blood rushed to his cheeks faster than I thought possible. I giggled again. "You're such a dork."_

"_Mr. Veridovich told me to be your tutor. What does it look like on my behalf if you still failed out of his class?"_

"_He'd think you were a perfectly normal student. He already labeled me "unteachable," so why bother?" I sighed, crossing out yet another line of the equation._

"_No, do this." Chandler scribbled over my chicken scratch. And what he wrote looked like complete gibberish. _

"_How about a break?" I proposed eagerly. He knew what I meant. _

"_The librarian will have our necks if we start kissing here."_

_I pulled him into me and wrapped my arms around him, holding the large math textbook up as a wall. "Now we have some privacy," I whispered. _

_Chandler grinned and leaned in to kiss me. I could feel the warmth of his skin. _

The flashback ended. Not even in death could I enjoy just a moment of happiness. I guess I was in hell then. I doubted Heaven could be so nice.

I finally was able to open my eyes after who knows how long. I'd gone through several more flashes of memory. My first date with Chandler. My first beer. My first birthday at St. Vladimir's and the first time my father didn't reply to my letter. I saw all of my firsts.

But when I opened my eyes, it was like my first time seeing again. Everything seemed to be out of focus. I could vaguely see a checkered tile pattern on the ceiling.

"Janine?" there went the voice again. Wait, I'd figured out who it was before.

"Ibrahim?" I breathed. I tried to turn my head to look at him, but it seemed that moving the neck was a bit out of my physical control at the moment.

"Why can't she speak?"

What? I had spoken. "IBRAHIM!" I shouted. But then I realized, I couldn't hear my voice.

"She's weak right now," the nurse said from somewhere outside my field of blurry vision. "It's outside her capability. Give her time." I heard some thuds. "I'll be outside. Call me if anything changes." A door squeaked.

"Janine, are you okay?"

I wanted to say yes, but apparently, I couldn't even speak. So I blinked.

"Yes? One blink is yes?" I blinked once. I felt like a fool. No…a fool could at least speak. I was worse. I was the ground below a fool.

"Janine, I'm going to turn your head so you can look at me," Ibrahim said softly. I wasn't used to hearing such gentleness in his voice. Whenever we had spoken before, it was always "I'm a stalker" this and "Here's a spooky, Turkish gift" that. This was my first time hearing him speak normally. His hands slipped under my neck, tilting it to the left.

For the first time, I was able to see his face, and that's when I knew I wasn't dead. Ibrahim's face had aged in weariness. He smiled tiredly as my eyes focused on his face. I smiled, but my lips merely twitched.

"Can you move?" he asked. "Move your arm."

My eyes flickered to my arm. I urged it to move. But it wouldn't move. Thinking about it, when you move your limbs, there is no conscious thought of moving them. They simply follow a directive. But my stupid arm wouldn't move!

"Don't cry, don't cry!" Ibrahim said urgently, touching my cheek. I was crying. How annoying. I was crying for the first time in who knows how long, and I didn't even notice. I tried to remember the last time I cried…it was a month after my birthday…oh yah. That guy had broken up with me. I was in my room crying…and Marie…

"Marie," I whispered.

Ibrahim's eyes opened wide. "You spoke," he gasped.

I repeated it. "Marie."

Ibrahim's eyes searched mine. "What about Marie," he asked, daring me to speak my trapped words.

Could I ask it? I didn't know if I was capable of asking the question that was on the tip of my tongue. I reasoned that if Ibrahim was alive and talking to me in a hospital room, then Marie must be alive as well. And Chandler. Everything was alright, I told myself. Marie was saved, I told myself. And Chandler.

"Where?" I managed to gasp. I sucked in a gulp of air, feeling nauseous and exhausted.

Ibrahim placed a hand on my arm. It was so large…or had I gotten thinner? "Maybe now isn't the best time," he murmured.

"Where Marie?" I gasped again, trying to keep calm. "Where? Where? Where?" My chest heaved as it tried to take more air in, but none would come. I was starting to hyperventilate.

The nurse burst in front outside my field of vision. "Mr. Mazur! She rushed over to me. She tilted my head back so it faced up again and placed an oxygen mask over my mouth. "Don't make her agitated. Do I need to ask you to leave?"

"I'm sorry," Ibrahim murmured.

The nurse sighed. "Can I trust you to keep her calmer?"

Ibrahim nodded slowly. "Of course."

"Just keep your hand on top like this. I'll be back in ten minutes to check up on her." The nurse gave control of the oxygen mask to Ibrahim and left.

He gazed into my eyes sadly. "Don't ask me anymore," he pleaded.

"Tell me," I whispered, finding myself able to speak the words easier. "Where is Marie?"

"Janine," he began, looking away. He sighed deeply. "A lot of people died. Not just in the party room." I waited for him to continue. He gave me a look that said he didn't want to, but I would wait if I needed to. I wanted to hear the story. "St. Vladimir's is closed indefinitely on order of the Queen. Many Dhampir and Moroi were killed. There were a lot of student casualties."

I felt my breath catch, and Ibrahim began stroking my forehead mindlessly. I wondered if my father was not such an ass, then maybe he would've done the same thing to comfort me.

"A lot of novices died," Ibrahim told me gently.

"No," I garbled. "No more. No. No. No." I didn't want to hear the rest. Forget what I said earlier. I wanted to just be left alone in my naiveté. I didn't want to hear anymore of what happened.

"Let me tell you so no one else has to," Ibrahim urged. He bent over my face and looked me square in the eyes so I couldn't look away. I wanted to be angry at him. He was using my muscle paralysis as a way to keep me bound. "They found you in the room unconscious."

"Don't," I tried to say, but it was difficult to talk with the mask on.

"You were surrounded by dead bodies. I was with the group that found you. The Strigoi that attacked the room were already killed when we got there."

"No more," I whispered, but I found I wanted to know what happened even more now.

Ibrahim gave me a long look. "You were the only one in the room to survive.

I didn't wait. I burst into heavy tears. Ibrahim kept stroking my forehead, but it didn't stop me from crying. All of the emotions that I'd been keeping inside were ripping through my chest at that moment. I couldn't think. Flashes of the images I'd seen when I was in the darkness came back to me. Chandler's crooked grin. Marie's smart-ass happiness. I wanted them back.

"Nurse!" I heard Ibrahim call.

I felt all the locks on my muscles release. I twisted my neck and began to kick my limbs. I managed to reach my hand up and rip of the mask over my face. "THEY DIED!" I screamed, finding Ibrahim's eyes. "IBRAHIM, THEY'RE DEAD. LET ME DIE, PLEASE!"

Ibrahim's face hardened. "Don't say that," he growled. He picked up my hand and stroked it. I realized it was in a cast. Both of my hands were. When had I broken the other one? "Please."

"I don't want to live!" I cried, sobbing.

The nurse finally burst into the room, looking agitated. She had a syringe in her hand. Like a pro, she pushed Ibrahim out of my grasp and stuck the needle into a tube connected into my forearm. The effect was pretty instantaneous. I lost what mobility I had regained. Everything began to swirl again.

"Why didn't I die?" I whispered, my tongue flopping against the walls of my mouth. I tried to find Ibrahim again but found he wasn't where I could see him.

"God loves you too much," Ibrahim proposed, his voice coming at me from my side.

"Do you?"

Ibrahim paused. He didn't say anything for a moment. "I guess," he said tentatively, "I care about you, Janine."

I was satisfied with that for now. "Uhhhnnn," I grunted, too tired to say anything more complicated. I blinked once, barely keeping my eyes open.

"Go to sleep, Janine. I'll be here when you wake up," Ibrahim told me gently. His voice was so melodic, I felt I had no other choice. I was too worn out to fight the exhaustion anymore. I hoped that this time, when I closed my eyes, I wouldn't open them again. What gave me the right?

_Why did they die? _I thought before losing all consciousness. _Why didn't I?_

**[[Ending A/N: I hope you read through the entire chapter because I had some trouble smoothing out. The whole chapter this time was pretty dramatic and angsty. Really, really angsty. But when all your friends die and you are alive, what else can you feel? I wasn't sure, but I guessed you would feel like an undeserving ass. Anyway, please comment on what you felt. I'd like feedback for this chapter. Thanks!]]**


	6. RomCom Clichés

**[[A/N: What did you guys think of Spirit Bound? Wow, that was an epic ride of a book, huh? The ending was not as such of a cliff-hanger as Blood Promise, but it was just as good. There were so many similarities between my Spirit Bound fanfiction story and Richelle Mead's. I was kind of happy to pick up on those similarities because it was like I was on her wavelength of thinking.]]**

**[[2****nd**** A/N: This chapter is not as heavy as it was last time. Just so you know. ****]]**

_Dear Janine, _

_I've sent some money to your bank account in light of the recent attack on St. Vladimir's. I will send you a monthly allowance of $200 dollars until the school is re-opened. Use it as you see fit. _

_Sincerely, _

_Your father_

I crumpled the wrinkled note with distain written all over my face. I'd read the note at least five times. The old bastard was a scrooge, but I didn't think he was heartless. Until now, that is. I knew very well that he was capable of sending more than a measly $200 dollars. He could send $1000 and still have enough money to house, feed, and clothe his harem of dhampir women.

But for now, I had to use what was given to me. It was two weeks since initially waking up in the hospital. I hadn't known where to go when I was finally released. So I decided upon the cheapest hotel I could find. St. Vladimir's had shipped me my possessions, so at least the dingy, cramped room felt a little homier. 

I collapsed on my bed, running a hand through my hair. The mattress creaked underneath my weight. I rolled onto my side and glanced at my hands. They shook very gently. I sighed. They'd been like that since I left the hospital. I'd eventually given up on trying to stop them. I figured that they would stop sometime.

The silence of the room reminded me just how alone I was. Everyone from school had gone home to their parents or with friends. I guessed that I was the only one who was stuck in Montana.

My cell phone rang in my pocket. I sighed again. The caller ID was locked, but I answered it anyway.

"Hello?" I asked.

"Hey, Janine. It's me."

"Oh, hey Abe," I said happily, sitting upright again. I felt my heart warm up again. "What happened to your cell phone?" These daily calls from Abe were wonderful. I felt like I could rely on them to brighten the dull boredom that consumed my day.

"Lost it. I'm calling from my home phone." He paused. "Why don't you call me Ibrahim anymore?" he asked quietly.

I thought about it. When had I started calling him Abe? I think it was when I woke up the second time…I'm not sure why. It just seemed more natural now to call him Abe. The name Ibrahim just didn't fit him. I'd tossed out lot more than just memories after the attack. I wanted my life to start over. Maybe changing Abe's name was a "coping method," as my counselor called it.

"_Ibrahim._ Happy?" I said slowly into the phone, grinning beside myself. But the name that had rolled off my tongue felt like lead in my mouth. It wasn't natural to say it anymore. "Is dinner tonight at your house or mine?"

"Your _house_ nearly gave me food poisoning," Abe pointed out. "You're living in scum, Janine."

"True, but it's cheap."

Abe chuckled, "Dress nicely tonight. We're having a candlelight dinner. I'm cooking."

"You?" I repeated incredulously. "You can cook?"

"I'm not totally incompetent in fields outside stalking," Abe remarked proudly.

I giggled, going over to the tiny closet in the corner of the room. The dresses that I had were pretty dusty from hanging in the back part of the closet. I hoped I had something to wear. "I'll be the judge of that," I told him sternly. "See you at 7 then?"

"Until then," Abe said and hung up.

I closed my cell phone and tossed it onto the bed. I stroked the soft silky cloth. I hadn't worn anything but sweats for the past two weeks. I hoped I still fit into some of the outfits.

Taking out a crimson silk garment, I quickly tried it on and scurried into the bathroom to get a good look at myself. As I stared at my reflection, I could barely see the old Janine Hathaway. Contrarily to what I had thought, I didn't gain weight from slacking on my exercise. I was thinner in my arms and face. The dress had been a tight squeeze when I last tried it on, but now it sort of hung limply on my thinner frame. I certainly looked different. I looked older…different. Dark bags hung underneath my glazed eyes. I looked like one of those people you see in the hospital waiting rooms. They were alive but not really there.

Did Abe see what I saw when I talked to him?

Abe lit the candle between us, casting a warm glow across the large, ornate penthouse apartment.

"You weren't kidding when you said fancy," I noted, looking at the shining, porcelain platters in front of us.

Abe grinned, sitting down in the chair across from me. He flourished his hand grandly. "Aren't you happy to be eating sanitary food?" he teased.

"It's cheap food. And it's not that bad. Not all of us were raised on caviar and Italian wine," I snapped back. I took a bite of the seafood bouillabaisse in front of me. I gasped, tasting the savory combination of clams and mussels swirl around in my mouth in a thick broth.

"Do you like it?" He studied me carefully.

"I love it," I said with difficulty, stuffing more of it into my mouth. "And you made this?" He nodded, eating some.

"I'm capable of a lot more than just stalking, as you say," he told me, waving a spoon in my face.

I laughed, sipping at my goblet of water. "Then what do you call all these dinners? I'm pretty sure you're overtly stalking me."

Abe feigned outrage. "Did you ever consider that I like spending time with you?"

I did a double take. "What?"

"You heard me. I like having dinner with you," Abe said boldly. "Is there anything wrong with that?"

I fumbled over my words. "W-Well no...I just don't believe it." Abe raised an eyebrow, prompting me to continue. "Did the school counselor set you up to this?"

"You think Mrs. Korov told me to _spy_ on you," Abe asked amusedly. "Are you that much of a narcissist, Janine?"

"She's been calling me everyday since my discharge," I murmured. "She wants to know how I'm coping. I thought maybe there was a connection. But I'll have you know, I don't need babying."

"Then what do you talk about with Mrs. Korov everyday?" Abe continued.

My face reddened again. "I don't think I owe you that." On second thought, I looked around at the table. From the lavish French bread crustinis to the three-tier chocolate cake, I probably did owe him. He had treated me well the past two weeks.

"You do. I'm feeding you for free. C'mon." Damn, he caught me.

I frowned, not wanting to let go of my famous pride. "Get off my back."

"Please?"

"No."

Abe gave me a surprisingly hard stare. It shocked me, sinking in directly to my core. It wasn't angry. Just concerned. But it was that emotion that surprised me the most.

I decided to relent. Maybe it would be nice having someone to share my feelings with, other than some creepy Moroi woman who asked more questions than she gave answers.

"I'm having some dreams."

Abe's face suddenly changed to surprise. "About what?"

I felt really self-conscious. Why had I told Abe that? I didn't owe him that kind of explanation. Saying 'good' would've gotten him off my back sufficiently. I didn't need to tell him about my nightmares.

"About what?" Abe repeated persistently.

Again, I felt compelled to answer. He became someone I could talk to so easily. "I'm not sure. There are lot of dark shapes…they're all black and red and they surround me. It's confusing." My voice had lowered to a mere whisper.

"It sounds like PTSD," Abe remarked.

I took the bread from my plate and chucked it at Abe's face. "I do not have PTSD."

"Is it so impossible?"

I thought about it. It wasn't. Just I didn't want to believe I had it. "I'm going to be a Guardian. We don't suffer trauma from things like this."

"Yah, because it's a commonplace to see your best friend murdered in front of you."

"Will you just drop it?" I asked exasperatedly, not enjoying his blatant sarcasm. "I didn't come here to discuss my mental condition."

"I'm only saying its normal. You went through a lot." He sounded sympathetic, almost pitiful. I grated my teeth. This was why I didn't want to talk about it. I didn't want people seeing me as weak.

Abe, seeing my face, quickly changed the topic. "Then, when do you get your molnija?"

"Tomorrow actually," I said, surprised. I hadn't thought about it for a couple days now. And the more I thought about the ceremony, the more I dreaded it. Since day one at the Academy, all of us novices could only dream about getting our first kills and our first molnija. But now, having the symbol inked into your skin for eternity felt like a terrible reminder that would never go away

"Can I come watch?" Abe asked.

"Maybe," I said slowly. I looked down at my plate. Suddenly, I lost my appetite. The rich food that seemed so rich just looked plastic. I pushed the plate away apologetically. Abe chuckled, nodding his agreement. No words passed between us for a while. We just sat there, looking at each other with mute understanding.

"Would you like to watch a movie?" Abe asked suddenly.

My eyebrow rose. "Depends. Are you a rom-com or heavy horror guy?"

"Sappy chick-flicks all the way," he cheered, standing up. I got up as well and followed him across the room to his couch. I flopped down, sinking into the plush leather. He picked up a conveniently placed movie and handed it to me. I didn't know the title (we didn't get much movie watching time at St. Vladimir's), but it had a man and a woman hugging on a bench. It just screamed sleepover party movie.

"You are an official player," I declared, looking at the back. I scanned the plot summary. It was something disinteresting about some girl and some guy and their development and yada, yada, yada.

"What are you talking about?" Abe asked innocently, taking the case from me. He popped the case open and shoved the DVD into the player. The huge plasma TV flickered to life, illuminating the dim room with a bluish glow.

"That movie just screams 'let's get laid during the awkward sex moments,'" I cried incredulously. "And don't say that you thought this would brighten my day."

"But I bought it just for you," he insisted with a false grin. He dropped down into the cushion next to me and grabbed the remote. The previews disappeared and flashed to the main menu, displaying little cliché moments that highlighted the premise.

"This movie is ancient. I saw the fingerprints on the case. You've had it for a while," I accused, punching him the shoulder. "You. Are. A. Womanizer."

"I like my women," Abe admitted. I punched him again, causing him to yelp. "What's wrong with that?"

"Idiot," I grumbled, feeling a twinge of jealousy. I had no reason to feel such an emotion. But Abe with another girl just made me feel frustrated.

The movie began to play, and my momentary frustration faded as I began to watch. Honestly, I didn't have high expectations, but the plot was utterly predictable. A girl fell in love with a boy when they were little and through the years they each denied their feelings for each other and all this junk.

At a point where the man and woman were together in—of course—the same college, they were both dating each other's best friend to make each other jealous. I wanted to shout at them to man up already and just admit that they liked each other. Then again, if they had admitted their love, then the movie would be way shorter.

"You hate this, don't you," Abe commented, studying my disgusted face amusedly. 

"Well…yah." I had to be honest. 90 minutes of watching this trite plotline was the cinematic equivalent to being locked in a room with Justin Bieber for a minute; basically an eternity.

"You aren't like most of the women I bring here," he remarked. "They eat this up." 

"Most of your guests don't carry a stake in her purse," I retorted.

Abe relented, hitting the power button on the remote. As the screen turned black, I felt myself breathe again. "Thank you," I said genuinely. I leaned back and let my head fall back on the sofa cushions.

"You look horrible."

My head shot up. I glared at him sharply. "Is this your new strategy? I hate rom-coms so now you take the opposite road?"

"No!" Abe exclaimed, holding up his hands. He gave me a weak smile. "It was an observation." For an extra measure, he scooted farther away from me. "No harm intended. It's just hard not to notice."

"So I'm a little skinnier," I grumbled. "I'm a girl. We diet. It's a _girl_ thing."

"You look sadder." Abe flinched, predicting my next move. But I found I didn't want to hit him.

"I'm not going to confess my angsty therapy sessions to you," I snapped.

"Don't you trust me?"

"As far as I can throw you."

"Please, spare me the clichés. You can trust me more than that," Abe said. He leaned in towards me. He smelled strongly of aftershave and wine. The aroma was a sharp, intoxicating scent that made me slightly woozy.

"Why should I?" I demanded, jabbing my finger into his shoulder. His dark eyes gave me the shivers.

"I fed you dinner," Abe whispered. The comment seemed so out of place, but the way he said it made such a random remark fit into the very, very tense situation we had put ourselves it. It was funny. If our lives fit into the scenes of the movie, this would be the part where the directors _thought_ they were making an overdone scene renewed but really were making it more ridiculous.

But it made me laugh. A real laugh, not a fake one. "Not my fault you are a pushover," I whispered back, leaning closer to him. I silently dared him to move forward. I dared him to be the man in the situation. Whatever was between us was out on the table. I placed all my feelings for Abe for him to see. My heart was still pretty uncertain about what I felt for Abe—whatever came in the next couple of minutes would tell me anything I was still unsure of.

Abe's steady gaze began to falter. I could see the courage he had gathered begin to shatter. _Do I have to do this myself,_ I thought, watching him crumble before me. Grabbing his collar, I did the one thing I didn't believe I would ever do. I pulled him into my arms, his lips meeting mine in a single kiss.

It was so warm; I didn't expect it to be like that. At first, his mouth was weak with surprise. I would be surprised if I was in his position. But his lips then melded to meet mine in a passionate kiss. I could feel his hands wrap around my waist. Just as I had opened my heart to him, through our kiss I could feel all his desire and curiosity and lust.

I pulled away quickly. Nowhere in that storm of emotions did I feel love. There wasn't a single shred of it. I wanted to kick myself for deluding myself into thinking that Abe felt the same thing I did. But then again, I didn't even know 100% of what I felt.

"Wait," Abe gasped. His face was wild with desire, like he was a starving animal and I was the easy prey put into the cage with him. "Don't stop."

"I don't think I can do this," I said hastily. I wished I could take back the kiss. 

"But you kissed _me_. Not the other way around," Abe said, his eyes wide. He grabbed my hand tightly, preventing me from getting away.

"Abe, do I love you?"

That made him pause with confusion. A bit of reason returned to his crazed appearance. "What?"

I repeated my question. "Do I love you?"

"How should I know?" he demanded angrily. "I don't know your thoughts."

"When I kissed you, did you…feel love…or desire?"

Abe thought about it, looking down at our hands that were clasped together. He squeezed my own hand firmly and let go. "Desire," he answered.

So that was it. Neither one of us loved each other. I wondered if I really had in the first place. The nazar had piqued my interest in Abe, but had it made me fall in love with him? Or was it as he had insisted at the hospital—that he cared for me?

_You're not being held on an obligation, Janine_, the little devil on my shoulder told me. _Like you said. He is a player. He won't hold you to anything either. There is no promise attached to whatever happens tonight. Go for it. He's a Moroi after all. It's better than a sleezy Dhampir guy._

I waited for the angel of reason to talk me out of it, but apparently angels take field days. My own little arguments against the devil were nothing in comparison.

"Fine," I admitted. My resolve was weak. No matter how much I had tried, I hadn't been able to avoid the cliché rom-com. I ended up with the guy in the end. But in contrast, neither of us was ready for feeling love tonight. I only wanted to feel the shallow concept of love, but not full love itself. The same was for Abe. I doubted he would ever be ready to experience the oh-so-famous "true love."

I leaned forward and kissed him again, more deeply than before. This time he met my lips perfectly, grabbing my back and pulling him into a tight embrace. I shut off any conscience I still had. The night would be just me alone with him, no thoughts involved.

**[[A/N: Hmmm, what were my thoughts while writing this chapter. Mostly frustration because I just got in a fight with my mother and finals are next week, so I am/was pretty stressed. Lots of angst in this chapter. And a study of cinematic clichés. Who doesn't love a script filled with platitudes? VOCAB WORD! Sorry, I just had my vocab final. Platitude was one of them.]]**


	7. New Guy Friend

**[[A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't posted a recent chapter lately! I've been über busy this summer. I won't be able to get out too many chapters, but I hopefully will push for longer ones instead.]]**

**[[2****nd**** A/N: This is sort of two chapters squished to one. I decided to cut the molnija mark ceremony so you guys wouldn't have to read through it. And I personally wanted to get to the parts **_**after**_** the ceremony—I'm just a lazy bum :D.]]**

I woke up groggily, rolling off my bed with a loud groan. "Uhn," I grunted, landing the balls of feet. I grunted again, feeling unusually sore. Why? I stood up, stretching. My head pounded from the quick flow of blood that drained from my head. As I waited for the wooziness and overall pain to disappear, I realized it wasn't.

That's when it all hit me.

Last night…Abe! I looked down. Instead of my usual Mickey Mouse pajamas, I wasn't wearing anything. I gasped, ripping the bed sheets and wrapping them around my bare body. The sheets weren't my own either! That's right. I remembered I was in Abe's apartment.

"Oh god." I paused, trying to remember what happened. Food. That's right dinner. What else? Movies…yah, that chick-flick. Then? I couldn't remember. What happened after the movie? Lips…what an abstract thing to remember. Whose lips? Mine? Yes mine. Mine on someone's…Abe's. Oh god. No. No. No! SHIT! Last night did _not_ just happen. But the good ol' voice in my head told me 'yes, it did.' And without a condom. My life had gone from the angsty life of a trauma survivor to the fucked up life of a girl who had unprotected sex with a man she had met less than a couple months ago.

I spun around, feeling nauseous. The lavishly decorated room reminded me of the pictures of the rooms of Versailles that we looked at in history class. The walls had an ornate golden weave painted into the Greco-Roman molding that lined the room. Long, white, silk curtains framed the tall windows, letting in the early pink glow of morning.

Abe was nowhere in site, but the clanging from the kitchen told me he was cooking. I felt my cheeks blush. _Get a hold of yourself_, I reprimanded myself. I looked around the room for my clothes. The crimson dress from the night before lay in crinkles on the floor, but I doubted I could wear it out of the building. Clutching the sheets to my chest, I walked over to the large, redwood armoire and opened it. Abe's wardrobe consisted of polos, jeans, long coats, and scarves by the multitude.

I quickly slipped on an oversized black polo and jeans. In the mirror attached to the front panel of the armoire, I could see my neck reddened by kiss marks. I touched them gingerly, not believing that they were on my neck. I thought for a minute I could be looking at a picture and not a mirror reflection of myself.

I gathered up my nerves and exited the bedroom. The smell of breakfast wafted up my nose. I found the situation terribly normal for what had happened the night before. Abe cooking, his back turned, with half a full continental breakfast set upon the marble counter in buffet style.

"Abe," I said quietly, unsure how to start.

He turned slowly, and by his expression, I could tell he felt just as awkward as I did.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked. A red scarf that glittered in the fluorescent light glistened around his arm.

"Yeah…" I sat down, not really letting my tense muscles relax. There was a definite coldness between us now. The ease that existed between us last night had disappeared.

"I thought you would want a nice meal before the ceremony," Abe said quickly, motioning to the platters of food.

"Thanks," I said. I got back up again and picked up a plate. The steaming plates of food looked delicious. I greedily helped myself to a healthy serving of eggs, potatoes, and sausages.

Abe smiled kindly, in an understanding way. "I'm still invited right?" he asked me tentatively.

"Of course," I said quickly, forcing myself to seem enthusiastic. "Why wouldn't you be?"

"Well…" Abe stammered, looking flustered. He looked down at his shoes. "I might not come."

I opened my mouth to ask why, but I realized that I had no right knowing. Knowing everything wasn't my job; it was his. "That's fine. You have prior engagements right?" I laughed awkwardly; Abe didn't have prior engagements. I had only put that excuse in his mouth. But I didn't want to hear his answer. I got up suddenly, pushing my plate away. "I think I need an empty stomach going into this."

"Kay," Abe said, flustered. He graciously walked over to the door and opened it for me.

"I'll return the clothes at the ceremony," I assured him. I looked down at my feet. "Well…bye." It was a horrible way to say goodbye to the guy you just slept with, but I just wanted to leave. I could feel his eyes on the back of my head, trying to figure me out with that mind that held so much information. I spun around, and clutching the waist of the jeans, I walked away feeling Abe's eyes on my back the entire time.

In the end, he didn't show up. No one did. In fact, the ceremony was at a very unceremonious meeting room at a Holiday Inn. A couple Guardians came, but I didn't know any of them. I doubted they worked at the school. Apparently, my survivor status was global news to them—go figure, huh? They kept congratulating me on my work and asking me if I was okay (to which I wanted to tell them to shut up and shove off, but that wasn't exactly proper decorum for these things).

I decided it was time for me to hit the gym. Seeing all the Guardians at the ceremony in top condition sort of shocked me into reality. I was thinner, but I assumed it was because of the horrible diet of Pop-Tarts and whatever the motel kitchen had to offer. I looked at my arms. Whatever muscle mass I had at school was gone; I felt ashamed for letting myself go in the wrong sort of way.

I rushed back to my room, changed clothes, and headed off to a 24-hour gym. Since Abe was currently avoiding me, I didn't have a means to get to the gym aside from walking. And walking in the relative silence gave me time to think about unnecessary things.

"_You slept with Abe?" _I imagined Marie laughing at me. _"Since when did you upgrade to Moroi?"_

"Oh will you be quiet?" I growled under my breath. I looked down the road before crossing the street. The gym wasn't too far away now.

"_I'm just saying, girlfriend. You need to be careful."_

"Why would I need to do that?" I demanded angrily. I wasn't bothered by the little Marie in my head, but more that Abe's suggestion of PTSD was becoming more and more fitting.

"_Janine, don't be dim."_ That was just what Marie would say in this situation. It was disturbing how accurately I could imagine and recreate her speech patterns. "_How do you think you were born? When a Dhampir and a Moroi love each other very much—no, scratch that—when a Dhampir and a Moroi feel like getting it on. Haha! Oh dear, Janine. Honestly, we don't just come from from storks in the sky."_

"I'm not going to get pregnant," I snapped. A couple people walking by me stared at me weirdly. I smiled thinly at them, but my eyes told them to back off. They gave me a wide berth as we passed each other on the sidewalk.

"_That's what they all say. Then they end up with a kid and no future as a Guardian."_

"Are you suggesting I'm going to be a blood whore?"

"_All I'm saying is that you need to be careful."_

"I'm ignoring you now," I grumbled. And the silence in my brain told me that Marie's voice was gone. I frowned—perhaps my imagination was too good. The Marie-figment was too realistic.

The gym came into view finally. Eager to get started on regaining some muscle and stamina, I sped to the entrance and went in. The familiar smell of metal and sweat swirled around in the entrance.

I walked up to the lobby desk and scribbled my name on the entrance sheet. I grabbed a complimentary towel and walked into the workout room. Lines of treadmills and stair-steppers stood in front of me, all facing a giant plasma TV with a baseball game on.

I picked a treadmill. I decided to crank up the speed to 10 mph. Why bother at the walking pace. I began to jog lightly, losing myself in the familiar rush of exercise-induced endorphins.

"Hi," the man running on my left said. I glanced over at him briefly, already deciding he was an ass for disturbing my workout.

It took less than a second to realize that he was a Moroi. And he was hot.

"Hi," I said hesitantly, slowing down so I could speak without losing my breath.

"Janine Hathaway, right?" he asked. His ice blue eyes were common to many of the upper class families, but as I hadn't seen any glimpses of Guardians around the perimeter, I doubted that this guy was that Royal.

"Yes," I said hesitantly. I narrowed my eyes, giving him a look over. He had the typical, pale Moroi face. His chiseled face and sculpted hair looked unnatural in the gym where everyone was sweaty and had their hair mussed into a workout style. "You a classmate or an admirer?"

"Both." He grinned. God, was he a model? His teeth were perfect! "My name is Nikolas Roberts."

"Roberts?" I asked. "Is that American?" 

"My father is," Nikolas clarified. "But my mother was Russian." I nodded, understanding his family situation.

"So, did you stalk me here?" I asked, trying to lighten the conversation. I boosted the inclination of the treadmill to 2.

"Actually, I was here before you. But I doubt anyone would give up the chance to run next to Janine Hathaway."

I laughed, impressed by his suave comments. I heard him turn up the inclination to 3. My eye twitched with amusement. Was he trying to outdo me? I clicked mine to 4. Nikolas' hand drifted to the speed buttons; he turned up his pace to 15 mph. I grinned; this cheeky guy was trying to beat me.

"Fine," I said stubbornly. "I'll match you _and_ beat you for endurance." I quickly switched my treadmill stats to equal his, lengthening my strides in the process.

"That's not fair," he complained, his handsome face reddening. His hands gripped the handles of the treadmill.

"You started it," I teased, breathing in deeply through my nose. "Prove me that you can keep up." 

That seemed to inspire Nikolas a little. But like he pointed out—the winner was obvious. It took about a five minutes for him to look like he was going to puke.

"Nik, just quit," I said, still keeping my breath even. I was starting to sweat, but I believed I could keep up my speed for another ten minutes or so.

He grunted, his hand fumbling for the turn off. I groaned—did this guy seriously come to the gym willingly? I leapt off the moving track, balancing on the rim of the treadmill. I leaned over the handrail and turned down the speed to a steady 7 mph with no inclination.

"Cool down first," I told him sharply. I slowed my own treadmill down too, and although I jumped back on to run, I continued to watch. "Honestly. Is this your first time working out?"

"Can you forgive a man for trying to impress a girl?" Nikolas asked innocently in between heavy huffs. "I've been trying to find a way to get your attention for a while now."

"Oh really?" I asked skeptically. "Do you have some sort of journal on me?"

"No, just mental notes. But you're a Guardian so I supposed that you would eventually come here." He had a point. I really couldn't stay away from the gym for too long. And I was impressed. I wondered if Nikolas was just trying to flatter me more.

"Yah, well the gym is sort of my comfort place," I said, walking now.

"Ah…so your seeking relief in endorphins. But the question is, from what?" Nikolas proposed. I groaned, hearing the implied question in his rhetorical monologue.

I shook my head. Why should I get this guy involved in my Abe-problems? One, he was a guy. What did he know about mistakenly doing it with your sort-of-not-really friend? And two, he probably didn't want to hear me whine about my emotions. Not many guys liked listening to teary girl confessions.

"You can tell me," Nik pressed, giving me a sideways glance. He chuckled. "I'm not like regular guys. I have experience in this stuff—my sister is pregnant so I act as her therapist in a way. So shoot, I'm all ears."

"She is?" I wondered, changing the topic. "Is she…" I trailed off, not knowing how to ask.

"She's a Dhampir," Nik clarified. "Well I guess you could say she is my half-sister. Before my father met my mother, he had a Dhampir…lover."

I nodded. This kind of stuff wasn't unusual in society. I mean, like Marie said (sort of), we don't get made by storks. I didn't judge Nikolas anyway. His family seemed basically normal compared to my father and his entourage of women.

"So come on," Nikolas resumed, "tell me what's up. You obviously came here to get away from everything."

"Am I that readable?" I asked bitterly. I smiled grimly, deciding that bottling up my emotions was just one step on the road of an angsty teen. And I hated angsty teens. "I slept with someone last night. Not just anyone…a close someone. I would say friend, but I don't know…no, not friends. Sort-of friends. Okay, maybe borderline sort-of friends and acquaintances, although I'm pretty sure it's just acquaintances now." I heard myself babbling and quickly shut my mouth.

Nik clicked stop on the treadmill and let his feet roll to a stop. He turned to look at me gravely. "That is severe offense," he said stoically. "I'm afraid there is no turning back from here."

I couldn't help but laugh. "What is with that face?" I said playfully, stopping my own running. I leaned over and wacked him on the shoulder. He leaned away from me and hopped down onto the ground.

"I'm serious!" Nik exclaimed. "Who is this sort-of friend anyway?"

"I don't think I'm obliged to tell you that much. We just met," I said pointedly.

He pouted, and damn, I could have taken a photo right then and sold it to a magazine for some heavy cash (which would be great, because I sort of needed it). Did Nik have a bad side to him? "Fine," he griped, "we'll just have to get to know each other better."

My jaw unintentionally fell; I thought Nik was a good guy, but his suggestion—"NO!" Nik interrupted my thoughts. "I didn't mean it like that." He laughed nervously, wiping off his sweaty face with the towel that had been stuffed into his water bottle holder. "I meant that you should come over for dinner or something."

"Come over?" I repeated.

"To my house," he said in a slow, dramatic voice, as if I didn't know what 'coming over' meant. "Well technically it's my sister and her husband, but you get the point. I'm sure my sister would love you."

"I'm not sure how much love I'll be receiving," I told him truthfully. I gestured towards my soiled workout clothes. The baggy T-shirt and sweats I was wearing had sweat stains and other…mysterious blotches all over them.

"Oh, Nicolette is used to that. I come home all the time in my gym clothes."

I giggled, covering my mouth to hide my amusement. Somehow I couldn't imagine Nikolas with all his model looks frequenting the gym. It didn't seem right to me. I gave him a peculiar look. "Your sister's name is Nicolette?" I stifled another laugh. "Nikolas…Nicolette? Is that a name fetish your dad had or something?"

"Humph. What if it is? I like my name and so does Nicolette," he protested. "And stop making fun of our names or I'll retract the invitation."

"I'm sorry!" I apologized sarcastically. "And thank you for the invite. I'd be happy to eat dinner. But be careful because I'm a bit of a freeloader."

Nikolas shrugged off my excuse. He beckoned me towards the lobby exit. I gladly got off my treadmill, gathered my things, and followed him out. The cooler lobby and the slowly dwindling nighttime felt good on my hot skin.

"Aren't you scared of Strigoi?" I asked him. "You don't have any Guardians around…"

"Nah," he said casually, scanning the parking lot for his car. "I've got you to protect me."

"I don't think that I'm going to be much help. I haven't been working out much."

"Well then I have my sweat socks. They're pretty powerful weapons ya'know."

I doubled over with laughter. Nikolas began to laugh with me. It took us ten minutes to stop our fits, but by then we were in the car and half way to his house. The good mood had really brightened my spirits, and when we eventually got downtown to where his house was, I had completely forgotten about my problems. Abe…he was past news; I believed I had a new friend in Nikolas. And I was determined just to keep it at a friend-to-friend level between us. Because I was not a slut. And I didn't want to have my conscious produce more disturbingly accurate Marie-figments anymore; I was done with walking the line of crazy, angst girl. It was time to move on.

**[[A/N: Forgive me if this chapter seems a bit disjointed. I'm a little exhausted from writing, literally and figuratively. It's nearly 1 a.m. and I've just written about 2,000 words. Ugh. Well I hope you like the chapter. I am not sure when the next one will come out as I'm going to be out of town with no internet for 3 weeks, but I'll try to get one up ASAP. Thanks for staying with the story!]]**


	8. Knocked Up

**[[A/N: I'm backkkkk! Camp was great, but having access to my computer is even better. :D I am a little rusty so bear with me as I get back my writing legs.]]**

A little over a month passed in relative calm. I found myself taking to domestic life much easier than I would have thought. It was surprising how easy I adjusted to living a life with Nikolas and his sister. On the other hand, I could tell that the thin, weight loss I'd experienced post-hospital was now gone, replaced by a steady weight _gain_ that I found unusual, even with my frequent trips to the gym.

Nicolette—rather she told me to call her Nikky—was a cheerful, hippy Dhampir. She shared little in common with Nikolas aside from a common father. Initially, I looked down on her as a Dhampir woman who had skipped out on the Guardian track. But Nicolette treated me with immense respect and kindness the moment I stepped into her kitchen, and in turn, I saw reason in her decisions to stay away from fighting. She was 8 months pregnant.

One day we both were sitting in the lounge, enjoying the golden warmth from the sun filtering in from the windows. Nikky gingerly rubbed her swollen belly, murmuring cooing sounds to it. I felt a little awkward, sitting there with nothing to do but stare at a pregnant woman and her stomach.

"Would you like to feel him kick?" Nikky asked me. "I suspect he'll be a real fighter when he grows up."

I laughed, putting my hands up as a gesture of innocence. "No thanks," I said, looking down at my hands.

Nikky studied me for a moment, but she was smart and could read my face like a book.

"Wondering if I'm going to send him to the Academy?" Nikky asked me lightly. She giggled and leaned back into the seat, her light hair blending into the faded checkered upholstery.

"If there is an Academy left to send him to," I grumbled.

Nikky looked thoughtful, scratching her belly reflexively. "Well, if the Queen finally clears St. Vladimir's for reentry, then I believe I will send him. He'll be a man and a man has a duty that needs to be fulfilled."

"Because he's a guy," I noted, stretching. I picked up a Time magazine laying casually on the coffee table and skimmed through it mindlessly.

"Because he's a guy," Nikky allowed, smiling blithely. "I'm not sure what my answer would be if my baby was a girl."

I leaned forward, keeping my hands on my lap. The magazine slid onto the ground, but I left it there. "How do you manage this life?"

Nikky smiled calmly, as if this question had come up a thousand times in our conversations. "With my boyfriend, you mean." I nodded slowly. "We love each other," was the answer. She said it so simply without thinking.

"That's it?" I asked.

"What were you expecting? A long, drawn-out answer filled with heartbreak and drama?" Nikky asked giggling. I shrugged; maybe that was what I was expecting. "A Dhampir and a Moroi don't have much in common except a couple genes. Really all Sam and I share is love. That's it."

"That's it," I breathed. The way Nikky looked as she said his name, I could feel her passion for him in his voice. I'd never met this Sam, but from all the things Nikky had told me about him, I thought I could probably fall in love with him too.

The door clicked with the sound of a key being twisted into the lock. It swung open and Nikolas walked in with a flurry of cool wind.

"Close the door, Nikolas," his sister urged, clasping the blanket on her lap. The wind was uncomfortable, being it just the end of Montana's coldest season.

"Have you brought us news of the far beyond?" I teased, moving over to the side of the seat. Nikolas laughed and squished down into the seat next to me. I gasped, feeling the coldness of his jacket touch my bare arms. I pushed him away laughing. "You're cold!"

Nikolas hugged me with a crooked grin. I laughed, feeling the hair on my arm tingle with the chill. "Indeed. I have news. The Queen has come."

"Here?" Nikky and I asked simultaneously.

Nikolas nodded gravely, burying his face in my hair. I leaned into him subconsciously. "Apparently, she has decided to take the investigation on the attack into her own hands," he reported.

"I guess I won't be going back to school for a while," I remarked emotionlessly.

"You don't seem unhappy about that," Nikolas commented. "I thought you wanted to go back."

"I did," I said quickly, "but I kind of like living here. It's easy and relaxing."

"This is how the other side lives," Nikky said. "You're welcome to stay as long as you want."

That night I went to bed feeling angry. I sat staring at my cell phone on the bed stand. I flipped it open, scrolled to "All Calls" and stared at the history. Nothing. I shut the phone and placed it back on the bed stand. After another second, I repeated the cycle.

"Should I be worried?" Nikolas asked, standing at the door. He was shirtless, only wearing some PJ pants.

"No," I said frustratedly, placing the phone back in place. "My friend just refuses to answer my calls."

"Do you need a hug?" he asked, walking over to the bed. He sat down next to me.

I wrapped my arms around him and squeezed. Nikolas hugged me back. I could feel his hands around my back, moving dangerously down.

I pulled away quickly. "Wait a second," I said hesitantly. "Just wait one second."

Nikolas sighed and stood up. He rubbed his arms quickly with exasperation. "I can wait," he told me. "But I thought since last time—"

"YES! Well that was the exceptio—that's not the point!" I interrupted him. "I just don't want to tonight." This sounded totally unlike the Janine who got in bed with Abe just a month or so ago. Had living the life of a housewife really domesticated me to a shy, over-emotional young woman? Oh god, if only the past me could have seen me now.

Nikolas glared at me, but his face soon melted in resignation. He leaned down so his face was at my level and kissed me briefly. "Good night then," he whispered. His hand brushed tenderly against my cheek.

"Good night," I bid him. I waited for him to leave the room and shut the door behind him before I began to breathe again. I reached back and grabbed the phone again. I flipped the phone open and dialed speed dial 2.

_Ring. Ring Ring._ _The cell phone you are trying to reach is not available. Please try again another time. BEEEEP!_

I shut the phone with renewed anger. My cheeks felt a little hot still. I went over to the little bench nook pressed into the window and sat down. I wasn't ready to sleep. Over on the wall, the clock just ticked to 1 a.m.

/

The next morning, I sat down for breakfast. I felt a little nauseous as I sat down at the dinner table. My mind was going back and forth on asking Nikky on what I should do with Abe; I suspected it wouldn't be smart to ask her about my troubles with a man other than her brother.

Nikky had cooked up several stacks of pancakes with a large helping of syrup drizzled on top. One hand resting naturally on her stomach, she set the plate down in the center of the table and sank into her seat.

"Is Sam coming home or something?" I asked her. "Because there is no way the two of us can eat this much."

She laughed lightly. "Sam is at Court for another month. But when you're eating for two, you eat a lot more than usual," Nikky told me, serving herself a healthy portion.

I also took a considerable portion of the pancakes, finding myself strangely hungry even though I felt a little sick before. After I ate my share, I quickly put my dishes in the sink and made for the door.

"Leaving for the gym?" Nikky called after me.

"Yeah." I bent down to put on my running shoes.

"Be safe. We're having pie for dessert tonight. Be home by 5 if you want to help make some."

I grunted. I got up and left the house, making sure I had my cell phone and house key in my pocket. The run to the gym was brisk, but it was a good warm up. By the time I got to the 24-hour gym, I was able to get directly on the treadmill at full pace. I pumped my legs hard. I didn't like that I was gaining weight. It definitely didn't make me feel sexy or confident. If anything, that was the one thing I kept from my life back at the Academy. I kept running faster and faster, pushing unnecessary thoughts out of my head.

Suddenly, I felt a stabbing pain in my stomach that radiated outwards. It was unlike anything I'd felt before. It was like someone was shooting me at point blank range. I gasped, gripping onto the handlebars as I braced myself with the pain.

"Ach," I cursed, hopping off the treadmill. I collapsed to my knees, gasping as the pain continued to pulsate in my stomach. I wrapped my hands around my abdomen.

I heard people swarm around me, asking me if I was all right. I tried to push them away, but I felt a firm grip on my shoulder. I looked up and saw the front deskman, a friend due to my frequency here. He was a pretty muscular human, but his face was soft with concern.

"I'm fine," I assured him, after he cleared everyone away.

The deskman gave me a look that told me he didn't believe a word I said. He helped me up. With one arm turning off the machine and grabbing my towel, he helped me stagger to the empty lobby. He sat me in a chair. By then, I wasn't in so much pain but my ego was bruised.

"Phone?" he asked me shortly. He wasn't a man of words.

"I have one," I said, gingerly moving to pull out the cell phone in my shorts pocket. I dialed Nikky.

"Hello?" she asked me over the receiver.

"Nikky, I need you to pick me up…"

"Now? You've only been at the gym for an hour. Are you alright?"

"My stomach just started to hurt. But it's noth—"

"I'll be over in ten," Nikky said quickly. She hung up, leaving me a little mystified at her unusual brusque reply.

Nikky arrived just in time. She entered, wrapped tightly in a dark coat covering her baby bulge. I got up gingerly and walked over to her. She wrapped her arm around me and led me out towards the car. I waved a brief thank you to the deskman who had sat with me.

"Nikky, it's just a stomach problem," I said as I walked to the car. "Give me an Advil and I'll be alright."

She shook her head, looking worried. "Maybe we should go to the hospital…you look like you're in pain."

"I'm fine," I insisted. My pocket began to ring again. I opened it up as I sat down in the front seat of the car. Nikky shut it behind me and got around to the other side.

"Hello?" I asked into the phone.

"Janine, what happened?"

I was silent. How did Nik find out about what happened? Did he know? "Don't play stupid, Janine," he said angrily. "The deskman, bless that man's soul, called me to say you had collapsed."

I gritted my teeth. I didn't know the deskman, being the silent observer he was, would go and tell Nik of all people. "It's just some cramps," I told him.

"Nonsense," Nik spat over the phone. "Go to the hospital. I'll meet you there. Tell Nikky to drive you there."

"Already doing it," Nikky said loudly, overhearing her brother over the receiver. She spun the car around in a U-Turn, directing it to the hospital.

"But—" I protested. But I could tell I wasn't going to win this battle. I sighed in resignation.

"I'll see you there," Nik told me, his voice revealing his worry. He hung up, leaving me staring blankly at the road.

We drove in silence to the hospital. Nikky led me into the front entrance. At the front desk, the nurse on duty automatically assumed that Nikky was in labor or something because of her huge belly that was even obvious underneath her coat.

Nikky quickly signed us in after a little bit of clarification to the nurse, and we sat down. My stomach had begun to hurt more than usual again. I grimaced, rubbing it. Nik rushed into the waiting room. He found us immediately and sat down next to me. I assured him it was all right, but the worry lines around his eyes didn't disappear.

The doctor, by the name of Tyler Reeves, met with us and led us to a small patient room. He asked me numerous questions like "What I ate this morning" and "What the pain rated on a scale from 1-10."

I answered them truthfully and eventually, Dr. Reeves asked Nikky and Nikolas to leave the room on the excuse of patient confidentiality. Since neither were actually related to me by blood, they didn't have the right to hear what Dr. Reeves thought I had.

"Janine, forgive me for asking this, but have you had unprotected sex in the past month?"

"Excuse me?" I could only ask. The doctor's face was impassive—he probably asked this question to a lot of people. It was natural to him. "Well…once. With my boyfriend."

"Ah. The boy you were with?" he asked. I nodded meekly, feeling uncomfortable about discussing my sex life with some unfamiliar doctor. The doctor flipped through the papers in the folder of my medical records. I grimaced unwittingly. I had a feeling I knew what he was about to tell me, but I didn't want to accept it.

The doctor looked at me sympathetically. "Your stomach pains were caused by over exertion, but in your case, the pain was exacerbated by your pregnancy."

I choked on air. No. Way. In. Hell. In. Fucking. Hell. "I'm what?" I whispered.

"Pregnant," Dr. Reeves said calmly.

"How sure can you be?" I demanded, feeling angry. It was the whole process of disbelief, denial, anger, and acceptance. At the moment, I was in the anger stage. "You didn't do anything but ask questions."

"Janine, if I thought an ultrasound was necessary to confirm my diagnosis, I would have already ordered one. But I'm sure about this," Dr. Reeves told me. He suddenly turned and pulled open a drawer. He pulled out a thick, plastic stick. "Here," he shoved it at me with sudden force I reflexively backed up. "I'm sure you've seen a pregnancy test before. I'll show you to the bathroom."

I shook my head. I was sure of Dr. Reeves diagnosis as well, but I didn't want to believe him. To think that _I, Janine Hathaway,_ would be pregnant. I wasn't even graduated from school, and I was knocked up.

"You're parents and boyfriend will need to be told." Dr. Reeves prompted. He sure was a nosy doctor, but I appreciated his calm demeanor. He seemed to genuinely care for me. "If you want to keep the baby, of course."

"I do," I told him. I wasn't obsessed with politics or religion to an extent, but my morals went against abortion. "But my parents don't need to know. And neither does my boyfriend," I snapped, feeling cross with the situation. My father didn't want to hear from me. He wanted nothing to do with me and certainly not my child. My mother certainly wouldn't understand—she was too stoned on psych meds. But Nik? How could I tell him that I was pregnant with his child? Did I even know it was his? We had only consummated our love once…what about Abe? The time I slept with him would fit the timing too.

"Janine, you cannot deal with this by yourself. There are legal and ethical problems with your decision," Dr. Reeves told me, his passive face finally showing some concern. "Your underage. You have no parental supervision. I have a legal obligation you know."

"It won't do you any good," I growled.

"Oh? Then what about your boyfriend?"

"I don't plan on keeping it a secret," I clarified slow ly, picking my words carefully. "But I'm not entirely sure if he is the one I should tell."

Dr. Reeves gave a knowing smile. "You've had more than one partner?"

"I've never cheated!" I exclaimed furiously. "Don't judge me."

"I would never," Dr. Reeves said again with his calming voice. It was like he was my father but he actually cared about me. "But I do have to warn you about certain things."

"Like what?"

"The costs. Pre-natal vitamins. Checkups. Parenting classes. Buying the baby clothes. All of this takes money, Janine. You should have some idea of how hard it will be to pay off without a job."

I thought about it and realized that Dr. Reeves was right. I needed some form of support to get through this. But how could I tell Nikolas when I was only half sure it was his. Even then, I didn't know for sure. I felt like crying. Damn out of control hormones.

"Janine, maybe you should talk to your boyfriend," Dr. Reeves said. I sniffed and nodded. I felt horrible. I wasn't gung-ho badass Janine. I was pregnant, weak Janine who ate pancakes and watched daytime Oprah with a more-so pregnant sister of my boyfriend.

Dr. Reeves let Nikolas back into the room and he stepped out, giving us some privacy. I didn't need to tell Nikolas what I thought. He seemed to know already. As soon as the door closed behind the doctor, he rushed over to me on the patient table and gave me a hug.

"Janine," he whispered, his voice full of passion. "I can't believe it."

I pushed him back and smiled weakly. I decided not to tell him that I thought the baby could be Abe's. Nikolas didn't know Abe but he would be smart to put two and two together and figure out he was the guy I kept trying to contact every night.

"Nik, the doctor said that this is going to be expensive…"

"I'll get a job."

"What about school?"

"It won't be reopening for a while is what I'm told."

I hunched over, feeling sick to my stomach. This was all going too fast. I needed to talk to someone. Not Nikky or Nikolas…but who else could I talk to? I knew it immediately; it was time I talked to Abe…face to face.

/

After leaving the hospital with a prescription for mild painkillers, I excused myself from Nikky and Nikolas' tight surveillance on the excuse I needed to be left on my own for a moment. They seemed to understand. I borrowed Nikolas' car and drove the short distance to Abe's downtown apartment. The doorman knew me well and let me in. He seemed to be unaware of the great rift between me and Abe, seeing my month long absence as vacation or something.

I took the elevator up and got out on Abe's floor. I checked myself in the reflective surface of the elevator door. Seeing that I looked suitable for someone who just had her world flipped, I walked over to Abe's door and knocked.

He opened the door five seconds later, and by the look on his face, he was definitely surprised to see me. I smiled, pushing past him into the apartment. It was just as I remembered. Nothing seemed to have changed. It was like I was coming back for my daily dinner with him.

"Janine—" he exclaimed in shock. "What are you doing here?" He shut the door with a silly dumbfounded expression on his face.

"I need money," I half-lied.

"Money," Abe repeated in disbelief. "I can hardly belief you need money. For what? Clothes?"

"Yes, and other things," I said hesitantly. I imagined myself in the matronly clothes that I saw in the pregnancy store at the mall and shuddered.

"Spill, Janine," Abe said shortly, frustration clear on his worn face. "Why are you here. If you needed money you could've asked your boyfriend. He has enough for your shopping spree needs."

"I needed someone to talk to…" I murmured.

Abe's face softened for a moment. He groaned and rubbed a hand through his hair. He gestured tiredly towards the couches. I went and sat down while Abe poured two glasses of wine. He took them in his hands and gently went over to sit with me.

"No thank you," I said quickly, when he offered a glass to me.

Abe looked at me warily. "Since when do you turn down a drink?"

"I did the night of the party," I reminded him.

Abe conceded that fact. "But you also have some uncanny Strigoi sense that went off that night." I laughed, hearing the compliment in his comment.

"I'm going sober for a while," I said simply. "Nik has convinced me to give up on the alcohol." It wasn't a lie. And Nikolas would probably remind me of my new pregnancy diet once I got back.

Abe nodded blankly at my lame excuse, but I saw the moment his eyes began to focus again. He grasped me on the shoulders and looked me up and down, his eyes lingering on my abdomen. I pulled away, feeling awkward under his scrutinizing glare. But I had to say, he was smarter than I gave him credit for.

"No…Janine! NO!" Abe cried, his eyes widening.

"Wait, Abe! Just wait! Don't panic!" I tried to calm him.

"PANIC?" he roared. I cringed, never seeing him so angry. "Janine, are you here because your pregnant?" My eyes couldn't meet his. "JANINE! ANSWER ME!"

"It might not be yours," I protested defiantly. "Don't yell at me."

"You mean it's Nikolas' child." Abe sounded bitter. He got off the couch angrily. He inhaled raggedly. "Janine, get out."

"What?" I breathed, paralyzed.

"I can't—no—I won't have anything to do with you," Abe said icily. I recoiled at the pure fury buried in his tone.

"Wait!" I said quickly, hopping off the couch. I winced, feeling the stiffness in my legs. "I said it might be his. It could also be yours."

"You don't know?" Abe asked doubtfully, turning to face me with a mask of emotionless.

"The timing fits for you and for him."

"Do you want a paternity test then?"

"No."

"Janine, I need to know if it's mine or yours."

"Well wait 9 months and if the baby comes out with dark skin and a scarf, then we'll know," I said tightly.

"Be serious."

"I am!" I said angrily. "I'm confused. I'm angry. And I'm hormonal!"

Abe got up close to me and looked me deep in the eyes. I could smell his aftershave. Unlike most girls, I preferred this smell to most cologne or perfume. It was relaxing. I inhaled deeply and felt woozy.

"Who do you think the father is?" Abe asked me seriously.

"I don't know," I replied honestly.

"Think. Who do you believe is the father? In your heart."

"This is so cheesy," I told him. "What does my heart have to do with reality?"

"Please for heaven's sake, Janine. Will you drop your arrogance for just a second and try? Nikolas or I?"

I bristled under Abe's admonishment but decided just to go along with him. "Honestly," I said slowly, "I think it's yours." That seemed to be good enough for him. All the confidence in his body seemed to melt away. His shoulders sagged. Shakily, he reached out his hand towards my stomach. I stiffened as he touched my stomach. "To think that I'm going to be a father," he whispered. I warmed at his words. But his face didn't have the same joyful expression as Nik's. Abe's face was distraught.

"What's going on?" I asked him.

"I'm leaving town for a while."

My eyes narrowed. "For how long?"

"Five years."

I froze. Five years. Five long years. I saw a young girl with dark hair and eyes standing forlornly at the Academy's gate. An older me gave her a long hug and disappeared, leaving her alone at the gate with a matronly Guardian by her side. The young girl began to cry loudly as the Guardian tugged her through the gate.

"God, she's going to have a sad childhood," I grumbled.

"Excuse me?" Abe asked.

"Nothing."

"Let Nikolas believe he is the father," Abe said as if it was the natural thing to do.

"He could very well be," I told him. Believing Abe was the father was just what I thought, not what was true.

"We both know he isn't." I didn't know if I believed him yet. "But he'll be a good one for the baby."

"Nikolas looks nothing like you though," I noted. "If I have a dark-skinned Turkish child, he'll know."

Abe thought about this for a second. "Good point," he gave in. He thought some more. The silence between us was unbearable. I wanted to demand to know what he was thinking, but his face was just so at calm with the situation, it was hard to imagine him in the wretched, distress state he was in before.

"Abe?"

He gave me a devious look. "I'll come back," he said. "In 9 months."

"And then what?" I demanded. "Just waltz in on my life out of the blue. Think rationally Abe."

"When I come back, I'll deal with Nikolas. And hopefully, we'll be sure whose child it is by then."

I gulped, feeling sick to my stomach. In 9 months, what would things be like? I could hardly imagine…me? A mother? Oh damn.

**[[A/N: This chapter is longer because I haven't posted a chapter lately! I hope you like it! I'm planning on the next chapter being the last (or maybe second to last if it runs to long). Thank you for bearing with me!]]**


	9. Birth and Rebirth

**[[A/N: I'll be out of the country soon so I've decided to squish the 2 chapters into one. I wouldn't really call the epilogue a chapter though. Yay! But this will be the final chapter of Janine and Abe's journey. I know I kind of rushed the last chapter, which I apologize for. Anyway, enjoy the last part of this story. :D]]**

**[[2****nd**** A/N: For the sake of the T rating, I'm going to skip the birth scene. Obviously.]]**

I lay in the hospital bed with an abnormal calmness in contrast to Nikky, who paced at the foot of the bed like the worried sister figure she had become. Her frame had thinned since giving birth to little Nathan. Nathan and Sam were at the house, waiting with eager arms for me to come back with a baby in my arms.

I kept my weak smile plastered to my face. It would do no good to her nerves if I started crying or something. "Where the hell are they?" she muttered, looking at the clock on the wall. It read 2:41 a.m.

"Nik will be here," I assured here. But I didn't know where my boyfriend was. "Now, will you come here and distract me?"

Nikky's face lost the harsh edge to it. She came over and sat at the bedside seat with a sympathetic gaze. She knew very well the feelings running through me. I winced as if to reiterate my point; contractions sucked like no other.

"Scrabble?" she offered, pulling the rolling table closer to my chest. I laughed, shuffling the tiny wooden tiles around on the board. Nikky took them in her palm and began to drop them into a little baggy.

I pulled out 7 tiles. Random letters: H, I, I, O, L, A, S. I frowned, reshuffling them. I could spell HOLA…but the rules didn't allow foreign words. I frowned again. I couldn't figure out a word with these letters. My frustration didn't help distract me. I cringed, feeling pain rip up from my stomach.

"Here, let me." Nikky placed her letters. PRINCES. My eyes widened in shock. Those letters were pretty rare. I couldn't believe she could get them on the first try—and she used all 7 letters!

I slouched in defeat. "You win, Nikky," I said disappointedly. "Let me lose with dignity."

"I hardly call it dignified when you give up without putting down a word," Nikky teased me.

I was about to respond, but the nurse walked in with Dr. Reeves. I smiled at seeing his familiar face. He had become a regularity to me, helping with Nikky's and then my pregnancy. He came over and shook Nikky's hand warmly and asked her how I was doing.

"In pain but oddly calm for missing her boyfriend," Nikky reported. "I swear I'm going to kill my brother."

"Where is he?" Dr. Reeves asked absentmindedly. He ran over my charts.

Nikky made a noise in her throat that everyone in the room knew was a noise of displeasure. "He decided to buy a video camera at the last minute. And I called Sam and he said Nik left the house an hour ago," Nikky grumbled. "He's such a procrastinator. I wonder who he gets it from."

I laughed aloud at Nikky. Believe it or not, she could push things to the last second as well. "Don't blame him," I told her sweetly. "He'll be here in time."

"All I'm saying is that it shows a lot about him if he misses this," Nikky told me sharply. She narrowed her eyes.

"He said he'd be here. So he'll be here."

Dr. Reeves told me I wasn't quite ready to start pushing yet. He told me he would be back in 10 minutes. I felt relieved. I wasn't ready yet. I wanted Nikolas to be with me. I started to sniffle. I wasn't even in pain at the moment, and I was crying. Pathetic.

"I'll go get a bottle of water for you," Nikky said awkwardly, the fire gone from her eyes. She could see I needed a minute alone. I nodded weakly, looking out the dark window. I waited for her to go before I looked back in the room.

I rubbed my bloated stomach. I had long since stopped my heavy running routine, but I still went to the gym for the yoga pregnancy class. The deskman didn't look too surprised to find out what my situation was. He told me in minimal words to tell me that he knew my relationship with Nik was one of the closest he's seen. Which of course made the guilt bomb drop in my stomach. I went around saying Nik was the father. That was only natural. After a couple months of doting, I felt like Nik _was_ the father. But Abe's face never disappeared from my mind. I still didn't know if the baby was Nik's or Abe's. I didn't want to get a paternity test; it was too conspicuous. But what was I going to do if my baby didn't have fair skin and light eyes? Abe said he would be back and would help me deal with this, but he was still AWOL.

The pain was excruciating. Of any of the kicks and punches I'd received by my classmates or by the Strigoi I fought, I wish I could relive them all rather than face this. I could hear my screams. I could hear Nik yelling encouragements in my ear. I hated all the noise. I wish everyone would shut up.

"It's a girl," Dr. Reeves told me.

"A girl," I huffed. Not a boy. I wanted a boy. A boy would be strong and brave and have a normal life with all the other boys training to be Guardians. But a girl…she would live a different life. What kind she would lead, I had no idea. "A girl," I said again, more resolutely. I let go of Nik's hand and wiped the sweat off my forehead. Matted knots had developed in my messily tied back ponytail.

"She's beautiful," Nikky told me, his voice catching on the word _beautiful_. The nurse quickly cut the umbilical cord from the baby's bellybutton and brought her over to the weighing station. I began to laugh and cry at the same time as I heard my new daughter's strong, healthy wails.

"What a full head of hair," Dr. Reeves told me, wrapping the baby in a pink blanket. He gently cradled her body in his arms before handing her to me. "It's so dark." He saw Nik's questioning face. "It's not uncommon for babies to change hair and eye color as they develop." That was a new fact that I didn't know. I breathed a sigh of relief (Nik was still in the dark), but I still didn't know whose baby it was. The baby had quieted down and I gazed at her. She had the quintessential squished face of a baby. I studied her…she had my ears.

But she had Abe's face.

I gasped, feeling a new bond with my daughter. It was irrational and crazy; passionate, almost. "She _is_ beautiful," I said with shock, reveling in her alikeness to Abe.

"She's a healthy baby," Dr. Reeves told me. "Now I'll need a name for the birth certif—"

The door to my room banged open, cutting off the doctor. We all looked up. My eyes widened. Abe stood in the doorway, huffing heavily. He looked much older, even though he had only been gone for 9 months. He had grown a small goatee, which I had to say looked very cute on his face.

"Who the hell are you?" Dr. Reeves demanded.

A nurse pushed Abe in, looking frazzled as she came in. "I'm so sorry, doctor," she apologized. She glared at Abe from the corner of her eyes. "He insisted on seeing Ms. Hathaway and just started running up here when I told him no."

"Sir, do I have to call security?" Dr. Reeves growled, looking as imposing as possible for a middle-aged man with thinning hair.

"Wait," I said quickly. I pulled my daughter instinctively closer to my chest. "This is Abe Mazur. He's my friend."

Everyone stared at me. I couldn't blame them. Only Nikky had a slight idea of who Abe was; "a past fling" I had called him in a light conversation about our previous relationships. No doubt she was wondering why Abe had suddenly turned up in my hospital room. I saw her look at me for a moment before turning her attention back to the large Moroi in the doorway.

Dr. Reeves relaxed visibly. He seemed to understand that there was some relationship between Abe and I and let the sudden outburst pass. He waved the extra nurse away before turning back to me. "As I was saying, I need a name."

"I haven't thought about it," I said, my gaze glued to Abe. A million messages passed between us. I hoped he received the most important one. _You were right. She has your face._ Abe's eyes widened and glistened with happiness.

"You guys, why don't you go get some food from the cafeteria. I need to talk to Abe," I said carefully.

Nik didn't seem bothered I wanted to meet with Abe. He didn't know about my past relationship with Abe and his position as my boyfriend was sealed with my baby. He didn't seem worried about a possible chance of me cheating on him. I felt sort of sorry for him. Nik kissed my forehead and then the baby's with genuine tenderness.

Everyone left, leaving me alone with Abe. As soon as they had all left, Abe rushed to my side. He kept a little distance from me, but his eyes were stuck on the baby.

"She looks just like us," Abe said with wonder. "It's like looking into a mirror."

"We're the parents," I murmured. "Her parents."

Abe looked at me warily. "Janine…I can't…we…"

"What should we name her?" I interrupted her, not letting him finish. "I was thinking something pretty. Like a flower. A pretty girl…I want her to be pretty."

"Pretty?" Abe asked skeptically. "I would think you wanted something out of a spy movie. Something badass. She's going to need it when she's older."

My lips curled up with amusement. Badass but pretty was a nice combination. I imagined my daughter growing up being one of the few female Guardians. Badass among her peers but definitely a beauty.

"How about Rose?" Abe suggested.

"Rose…" I said, tasting the name on my tongue. It was certainly pretty. I tried to imagine giving this name to my baby, having it being part of her being for the rest of her life.

"A rose is a flower. Pretty. Elegant. But it has thorns and can hurt if you aren't careful about handling it," Abe explained. He had a misty look in his eyes as he continued to study his daughter.

"Rose," I said again. I chuckled, mentally fixing it. "Rosemarie." That sounded right.

"Marie?" Abe said. Then he realized. I had long decided to have my best friend's name part of my baby's name if she turned out to be a girl. When Rosemarie grew up, I wanted her to be just like Marie—not necessarily book smart but with an intuitive knowledge on what is right. "Marie…yes…Rosemarie. I've never heard that one before. She'll be a unique girl."

"She'll be a real kickass beauty," I whispered, stroking Rosemarie's forehead. I rocked her a little, hearing her chortle and fidget in her cocoon blanket.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," I called quietly, careful not to disturb Rosemarie. The door opened and the nurse came in. She held a clipboard.

"Dr. Reeves told me to ask you what you finally decided on for the name," the nurse said.

"Rosemarie," I decided. "Rosemarie Hathaway."

The nurse scribbled down her name. She placed the clipboard on the edge of my bed and left. Abe picked it up and read the chart.

"Father…it's Nikolas?" Abe read.

"Well, I didn't want to tell him it wasn't his if he turned out to be the real father," I said defensively.

Abe took the pen from the table and quickly rewrote the box. "Ibrahim Mazur," he read slowly as he wrote his name.

"How am I supposed to explain that to everyone?" I demanded hotly. "Honestly, do you ever think? On the birth certificate, they're expecting Nik's name, not some random stranger who burst into my room."

"Leave the explanation to me," Abe said confidently. "I've developed a way with words while I was gone."

"No doubt…but can you do it outside?" I asked tiredly. "I don't want you to wake up Rose.

Epilogue:

_Five Years Later…_

"Only 1 dollar, lady. 1 dollar. Very good deal. Good." The shop vendor was as stubborn as a pig.

"No thank you," I said uneasily, pushing my way past him. The bazaar was maddeningly crowded. And it was open air. There weren't even canvas sheets covering the top of the alleyway filled with stalls and shops.

Merchants and shoppers bustled around me. I tried to push my way through, keeping a wary eye on the shadowy alley corners.

A flash of blue, unusual in the warm plethora of colors in the marketplace, caught my attention. In a small stall off to the side hung several glass nazars. I went over to them, studying them with a curious eye. They looked a lot like the one I had.

"I see you have a good eye," the shopkeeper said in Arabic.

"They're beautiful," I answered fluently him in his own language. "Did you make them?"

The shopkeeper gave me a strong stare. "Yes, I did. You're a foreigner. Do you know of their properties?" His voice was prideful of his craftsmanship.

"Even better. I have one of my own." I raised my hand, revealing the blue nazar wrapped to my wrist by a leather thong.

The man's eyebrow rose in suspicion. "That' is a very good one. Where did you get it?"

"A friend."

"Would that friend like another one?" The man gestured towards his own collection.

"Perhaps another time," I told him.

He smiled graciously, but sharpness had come to his lips. No doubt he didn't like that I had refused to buy one.

"I already have a nazar," I told him, trying to sound as gracious as possible. "But I will recommend your stall to any of my friends looking to buy one." I gave him a small head nod and left.

The heat was unbearable. I would have to send a request in to Court for summer uniforms that _weren't_ black suits when traveling to Middle Eastern countries.

But today was an important day and I was determined to find _something_ for Rose. Five-years-old was a big birthday. Unfortunately, my assignment to a Lazar royal on vacation in Egypt had kept me away. I wondered how she was doing. Today also marked one year of her living at the Academy. I heard she made friends with a Moroi. I never thought my daughter would make friends with a Moroi, but she was also Abe's daughter too.

Abe…I wondered where he was. It was long since our split. Or rather we never were together. He had made it clear he was not going to be a father. He couldn't be a father figure. His business, which I knew had a certain shady black-market stooge aspect to it, certainly didn't make him very cuddly. Last time I'd talked to him was 3 years ago when he made an overnight visit for my birthday.

I thought about my life at this point. It was certainly different and strange from the vision of a Janine on the porch with a daughter. But that Janine wasn't me. I liked my life. I liked the adventure. And I loved fighting. Being a mom included none of that. No doubt Rose would grow up resenting me for being exactly how my dad was to me. Of course she would—as I said, she was my daughter.

I decided that I wouldn't send a present. What would I include in the letter? I'm sorry for not visiting. Cheers from Egypt? I sighed, exiting the bazaar to the waterfront looking out on the Nile. A slight breeze picked up my hair, tugging at it from the tight bun I'd put it in. A few locals pointed and gawked at me. They knew I was a foreigner, but the sight of an unaccompanied woman with tattoos dotting the back of her neck was a strange one. I smiled at them before continuing back to the hotel. No doubt my partner would want a few hours of break time as well before our "day off" officially ended.

As I walked, I could hear the faint jingle of bells from passing nomads mixed with the swishing waves of the river. I stood still for a moment—it sounded exactly like Marie. Like laughter.

**[[A/N: Thank you so much for your support on this story. I'm thinking about doing a Last Sacrifice story, but everyone is writing one right now, so I may stay out of that field of work. Subscribe to me please if you liked the story!]]**


End file.
